Vapours
by TheQuietAwakening
Summary: I'm lost. I don't know where I am. Everything is so strange and I don't understand. But he's here with me. He's always here. – Completed!
1. Walls

Chapter 1 - Walls

Dark.

Everything is dark.

It's strange; the sensation that comes over me. I am utterly terrified, but at the same time, I feel safe, calm, as though no one can hurt me.

But darkness.

It's all I can see.

And I should be afraid. I _am_ afraid. But I'm not. And I don't understand it.

Silence.

Shouldn't I hear something? The sound of my breath, the beating of my heart, my footsteps against the ground . . . wait. Am I moving? I can't really tell. Am I breathing? I can't tell that either. Am I even really here? Where is 'here'?

I look down and see only blackness. I try to move my arm and I think it moves . . . I think. I try to take a step forward and I move . . . at least I think I do. I'm really not sure of anything at the moment.

I see something in the distance. A figure. Is it a person? Why can see them if I can't even see myself?

Whoever it is, I can see their outline, even darker than the blackness surrounding us.

I should be afraid; terrified. But I'm not. Even less so than before.

But who is this mysterious person and where the hell am I?

I take another step. And another. Maybe this person knows something. Maybe, whoever this is will help me figure out what is happening here, or where 'here' even is.

And they raise a hand, holding it out to me. They want me to come. I don't know how I know, but I do.

I take one more step and a slight rush of air brushes past my face. The world begins to lighten, the darkness fading, just a bit. I take another step towards them and I can start to see this person who is here with me.

Male. Blonde hair.

Wait.

I know him.

How do I know him?

Oh yes. School.

What's his name?

I think.

Why can't I remember?

I take one more step and now I am right in front of him. His features clear but the darkness around us remains a solid grey colour.

Draco. Draco Malfoy.

Memories rush back. He's a bully. A mean, evil, cockroach. What is he doing here? Why am I not afraid? He must only be there to make feel helpless, small, inferior, like always.

I take a step back, away from him. No. He won't have the answers. There must be someone else. Someone else hiding in the grey. I look and see nothing.

"Granger," he says. His words seem to echo, as though he is speaking across some vast emptiness. He sounds much farther away than he appears. "We need to talk."

Granger. That's my name. Not my first. He calls me Granger, but my name. . . my name . . . my name is Hermione. Hermione Granger. Yes. I remember now. I have a mum and a dad, and I'm a witch. I remember.

"Why are _you_ here?" I ask, finding my voice. It sounds strange to my ears, as though it isn't really mine.

He doesn't respond.

"Where _are_ we?" I ask again.

He remains silent.

"Malfoy, answer me!" I demand.

"You don't remember," he says softly. This time, the voice is close.

"Remember what?" I'm confused.

"Well, shit." He runs a hand through his hair.

I don't know what to think.

"Where. Am. I." I ask pointedly.

Malfoy sighs. "You wouldn't believe me."

So, he knows something. Why won't he tell me?

"Why are you here?" I repeat.

"Because I want to be," he tells her smugly.

"Of _course_. You _want_ to be here. Alone. With me. Because _that_ makes perfect sense," I say, dripping sarcasm.

None of this makes sense.

Malfoy doesn't respond, just plunks down to the ground, casually leaning against, what I assume must be a wall.

"Fine then. I'll figure it out for myself," I retort.

I'm in a room. A grey room. It's quite small. No windows. No doors.

"How did we even get _in_ here?" I question, more to myself than to him.

Malfoy gestures for me to sit beside him.

"Not a chance." I remain standing.

"Suit yourself. Only wanted to chat."

"I've got to find a way out of here," I mutter under my breath. There's no way I am simply going to sit in this small room _chatting_ with Draco Malfoy. No way.

I go to the wall opposite to where he is sitting, running my hands along its surface, traveling to the corner.

"What are you hoping to find?" he asks. "There's nothing there."

I roll my eyes. Why him? Why is it _always_ him? And why does he have to be so smug about it?

"Granger, stop," he tells me.

"No," I reply, moving to the next wall. There _must_ be _something_.

Wait.

I turn to face him.

"Why aren't _you_ worried about any of this?" I ask. "Why aren't you obnoxiously complaining about having to be stuck in here with _me_?"

He just chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest.

"Because I already _know_ what's going on," he says. "This is going to be quite interesting."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello there! Thanks for checking out the first chapter of my new story!**

 **This one is a bit different than my other ones, again. A different style of writing, shorter chapters, and sort of a large mystery component.**

 **That's where I hope you guys will enter in. I want to know if my mystery is in fact mysterious lol. It was at first to myself before I developed the plot of the story, but I want know what others think reading it without knowing the ending yet.**

 **Can you guess what's happening?**

 **Leave your comments and I'll reply as soon as I can! Would love to hear what you guys are thinking.**

 **Thanks again, and I hope you are having a great start to you're new year!**

 **~ TheQuietAwakening**


	2. Sand

Chapter 2 - Sand

The ocean.

The pulsing rush of the water calms me.

A shiver makes its way up my spine as the waves reach my bare toes, digging them just a bit farther into the sand.

The sky is blue, peaceful, no clouds to be seen.

I breathe in the salty aroma of the air as a breeze runs through my hair, and smile.

The smile drops.

Wait.

How did I get here?

The room. The grey one without doors or windows.

Where did it go?

I look down the beach.

Sand. As far as I can see.

Behind me, more sand, growing into rough grassy patches here and there. No civilization to be found.

So, where was I before and how did I get here?

I turn my gaze back to the water. It's mesmerizing.

But the question remains. Where am I? Why am I here? How did I get here?

"Granger."

It's his voice.

Malfoy.

I turn and groan to see him standing beside me.

When did he get there? Why didn't I notice him before? Why is he still here?

"Are you following me?" I accuse.

He shrugs.

"Why are you here?" It seems like the same conversation we just had, but I'll ask it again.

He smirks. "Much better than the alternative."

"And that is?" I question, thoroughly confused.

"Do you remember the war?" he asks.

He's changing the topic. But do I? Do I remember a war?

I stare at the water, thinking.

A war . . .

The war.

Harry.

It had something to do with Harry.

Muggles. Muggle-borns. People wanted them dead? Slaves?

You-know-who. What was his name? No one wanted to say it.

Voldemort.

He wanted to kill Harry.

Me.

Something to do with me. My parents. They're muggles!

Harry . . . and Ron. They're my best friends. I remember. We wanted to destroy Voldemort.

The memories flood back. The war. The final battle. Harry. He died. But came back. We won. But lost so many.

Malfoy.

Death Eater.

"Of course. It was horrible," I finally say. I look at him, suspicious.

He just nods, staring at the ocean.

"What do you want from me?"

Malfoy turns his gaze back in my direction.

"Think," he orders.

"About what?" I don't understand.

"About what happened!"

"What happened in the war? You. You're a Death Eater. I shouldn't do anything you say."

I know it doesn't make much sense, he only wants me to remember something. Why am I having such a hard time remembering things?

Malfoy seems hurt for moment, but his cold mask is put back in place and he demands again: "Think!"

I fall silent.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart!" he yells, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

I don't have to stand here and listen to this!

I turn and walk away down the beach. Glancing behind me, I find Malfoy standing exactly where he was before, watching me leave.

Good. Let me go. I have to find someone who will tell me what is going on.

* * *

Suddenly, I am no longer at the beach but marching through a field. All around me is deep green grass, spotted with beautiful purple flowers. I turn, but the beach is gone. Everything is gone but the field.

"Granger."

Malfoy is standing right behind me.

"What is this! Why are you following me? Where am I? What is happening!" I demand to know.

He sighs. "I'm trying here. I really am. You know I can't tell you right now," he says. "You have to think."

"What am I supposed to be thinking about!" I yell. "Answer me! I don't care if you're not supposed to tell me right now. Where the hell am I!"

"Where are _we_!" he yells back

And it hits me. It feels as though my world has been shaken, is being pulled out from underneath me. It doesn't make sense. None of this does.

I can't move, can't breathe.

I know why he's the one who's here.

I know why he's following me, why he can't leave me alone.

What I don't understand is how it all fits together. I don't understand what this revelation even means!

I know it is important. I know it is the key to figuring out what is happening. But why? I don't know.

But he must and it is so frustrating that he refuses to tell me.

Why Malfoy? Why him?

I don't know.

All I know . . . and it really sounds insane . . . is that we are strongly, intimately, and almost magnetically, connected.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello my amazing readers! I hope you're doing well. Thanks for stopping by and checking out the second chapter.**

 **These chapters are some of the shortest I've written, but I think that suits the story. The mystery continues, but I hope I** **didn't give away too much. I feel like that is definitely a possibility. Let me know what you think!**

 **I'm going back to Uni tomorrow, starting classes Tuesday, so I'll be posting on Sundays like I've done with my other stories so far, to give myself some time on Saturday to check it over and get ready to post.**

 **Thank you so much to the four of you who reviewed on the very first chapter. There normally aren't a whole lot of people reading right at the beginning so your comments meant so much to me. As we go into this new year, I have another insane semester planned. But one of the things that always makes me feel like I can handle all the stuff I have on my plate are your reviews. So help me hold off that mental breakdown a little bit longer this year lol.**

 **I hope you have a wonderful week and I will see you next Sunday with another update!**

 **~TheQuietAwakening**


	3. Home

Chapter 3 - Home

The scene has changed.

The ground beneath us is hard, barren rock, wet and slippery from the rain pounding down onto it. It's all around us, dripping from the tips of our hair and noses. Above us, grey storm clouds swirl in an angry doom-like fashion. It's cold, and makes me shiver, but not altogether unpleasant.

"You know something," Malfoy accuses, speaking loudly over the noise of the rain.

Should I tell him this revelation? Would he tell me more about our mysterious situation?

"We're connected!" I blurt out, wanting answers.

"And?" he thinks there's something more.

"And what?" I roll my eyes. Of course we're connected. It's no mystery. "We went to school together. You bullied me. That's our connection. You made my life miserable. You worked for the enemy, tried to get us killed. End of story."

Malfoy just stares at me, his grey eyes piercing into my soul. I feel something . . . shame, remorse, pain, though it isn't coming from me.

"That was a long time ago. It was just some silly teasing to keep my mind off everything else," he tells me.

"Silly teasing? You knew full well what that word meant and the damage it would cause to someone who hadn't belonged anywhere their entire life!" I yell.

Malfoy is silent for a moment.

"You don't remember. You don't understand. But you will; you must," he says.

"What?!" I am so confused. He keeps on spouting this nonsense.

He sighs in frustration. "At least get us out of this storm so we can have this conversation when we aren't soaking wet and constantly having to yell!"

Yes. Because _that_ is the only reason we're yelling.

"How do I do that!" I ask.

"Simply think of a place you want to go," he instructs.

I raise a brow. Really? That's it?

I think of home, of mum and dad, of where I grew up. I haven't ben back there in so long. Do I want Malfoy to be there? Not necessarily. But I don't have much of a choice.

The rain stops, the clouds roll away and our surroundings shift into a room.

My room.

My home.

"Where are we?" Malfoy asks.

"The house I grew up in."

I smile at the memories. My dad, tucking me into that bed at night, checking for monsters beneath it. Mum, reading a bedtime story before kissing me goodnight.

I belonged here. It was the one place; the one place I felt safe. I felt wanted.

"Granger."

I ignore Malfoy's quiet call and gently push open my bedroom door, making my way down the stairs.

I freeze, remembering.

My parents were sitting on that sofa. They were unsuspecting of my intentions. But I had to protect them. I had to make sure they weren't found, that they weren't in danger.

Reaching for a picture, I pull it off the shelf beside me, softly running the pad of my thumb along its surface.

"I used to be here," I whisper.

My world is caving in around me as I recall what I did.

A hot tear carves its path down my cheek.

"I did this," I whisper again.

Malfoy.

He's the reason.

Well, at least one of them.

"Get out!" I yell. "Get out! Get out! Get out!"

I collapse to the floor, unable to stand any longer.

I don't want him to know. He doesn't deserve to know.

"Granger," he sounds worried. Why does he sound worried? "What happened?"

"You happened! You and your evil, murderous, snake following friends!" I sob.

"What did you do?" his voice is soft, almost caring. It must be fake, must be. But he's hurt, and I don't know why. My words have hurt him.

"I erased myself from their memories, from their lives. I had to protect them! They had to move on as though I never existed. I had to protect them," I say through my tears.

"I didn't know," he breathes, taking a step towards me.

I look up at him. "And you were one of the monsters I was protecting them from."

I don't know why I said it. I knew it would hurt him even more, but in the moment, I just didn't care. But he's frozen in place, his face contorting with self loathing before hardening once more.

"That's not who I am anymore," he says, his fingers forming fists at his sides. "Come on, let's get out of this freak show."

We are back in the field.

But it has lost its beauty.

I don't want to be here. Not with him. He confuses me. Angers me. Hurts me. Comforts me. And I hurt him.

"What's wrong with you?" I ask, voice full of emotion.

"A lot. What about you?"

I'm silent.

How long has it been since the war? Has he changed? Could it possibly be he was telling the truth? That he's no longer who he used to be?

I look at him. Examine his hard, emotionless face.

I see nothing there.

But his eyes.

They are powerful.

They communicate so much more.

And I feel it.

Everything.

He's hurting.

He has been hurting for a while.

And I want to know why.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello my amazing readers! Thanks for checking out my new chapter!**

 **It was my first week back in classes at Uni, and it was a rough one. My schedule isn't great, my profs are slightly insane, but seeing your reviews made me smile each time a new one came in. So thank-you to those who left comments.**

 **Let me know what you think! You guys have some really great guesses of what's going on and I thoroughly enjoy reading them and thinking them through. I haven't been getting all that many for these first couple chapters, but they each mean so much to me, so if you want to make someone's day . . . *wink wink***

 **Anyway, I hope you have an awesome week and I will update next Sunday!**

 **~TheQuietAwakening**


	4. Truth

Chapter 4 – Truth

The world around me shifts. Walls rise, surrounding me, tall, looming, tingling with something; a power.

I recognize the room and a shiver runs up my spine.

Malfoy Manor.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

She tortured me here during the war.

But not now. Now, I watch the scene unfold in front of me.

Malfoy is there, but no longer with me.

He is standing near the centre of the room, wand raised towards a cowering victim, pleading on the floor at his feet.

I don't want to watch this. I don't. But I can't seem to pry my eyes away.

Voldemort himself is there, watching, pacing around the pair; an observational dance. He waves his wand and the man on the floor shrieks.

"Now do it yourself," he tells Malfoy in his frighteningly calm and almost soothing tone.

He is instructing; teaching Malfoy how to torture.

And I stand there; I watch.

Bellatrix is there, standing beside Malfoy, a proud grin etched on her face. She whispers something in his ear. I don't know what she told him, but he begins to shake.

I want to call out, tell him not to do it, but I can't.

I'm stuck.

I'm frozen to the spot. Unable to move, unable to speak.

"Come on, boy," the snake-like man prompts. "Now is your chance to prove to me your worth."

Malfoy seems just as frozen as I am.

He's afraid.

He is lost. He's lost himself, his hope, his will.

It's like I can feel it in myself.

He doesn't know what to do.

"I . . ." he begins to speak but cannot finish. His wand is shaking; a tear runs down his face.

And I know, he doesn't have it in him.

He can't torture a helpless man, begging at his feet.

"Do it!"

The words are harsher. Voldemort is losing patience.

Malfoy turns his face to Bellatrix, pleading for her to help him. Because he can't do it. He can't do what Voldemort wants him to, and he is terrified.

She is disgusted by his weakness; disappointed in his lack of sadistic tendencies. She won't help him. No one can.

I see him mouth the word, _please_ , but I already know, nothing will become of it.

Malfoy has lost hope in the cruel woman beside him and his wand drops to his side.

"Insolent boy! When your Lord tells you to do something, you do it!" Voldemort scolds, and he flicks his wand towards Malfoy.

He is on the floor, screaming in agony until the curse is lifted.

"Now watch." Voldemort's wand is turned towards his previous victim, and once again he is thrashing against the tiled floor, shrieking until his screams become raspy cries, until he can no longer remain conscious. "It seems as though the fun is over." He turns to Bellatrix. "Kill him."

With a green flash, the man's pain is no more.

Attention is turned back to Malfoy and I can feel his fear. He knows it's his turn to experience the full wrath of Lord Voldemort.

He is writhing, screaming, and I want it to stop. I want it to stop!

The scene evaporates before my eyes. The walls, the people, they become smoke and lift towards the sun and I am left, too stunned to speak.

I hear the water, the rhythmic crashing of the waves, feel the warm sand between my toes, and know I am back at the beach.

Malfoy appears beside me, sitting in the sand, arms draped loosely over his knees.

This time, I sit beside him.

"What was that?" I finally find the words to ask.

"The truth," he replies, jaw tight.

I take a deep breath. "Did you show me that?"

He isn't looking at me, his eyes are turned towards the water, and stays silent.

"Is that a yes, then?"

"In a way, I guess," he answers vaguely.

I think for a moment; the image of Malfoy being tortured by Voldemort while his own aunt watched smugly, is running on repeat through my mind.

"Why?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I guess . . . I guess I want you to trust me." He looks at me. "I need you to trust me."

Can I do that? Can I trust someone who lived that life, who was a part of the terrible things that happened?

It seems as though there may be more to the story than we thought. Maybe things weren't so clear cut between sides.

But can I trust him?

I look around myself.

Nothing makes any sense. I have no idea how any of this could possibly happen, no idea what is going on, and he is the only clue.

But he's Malfoy; the bully, the cruel boy who picked on me for things that I could never change, the one who made me feel like I would never belong to any world.

I look back to him, back to the pleading face of a scared and lonely boy.

"Why? Why do you need me to trust you?" I ask softly.

"Because," he takes a breath. "Because it's the only way I survive."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello my lovely readers! I hope you've all had a good week. Mine was a little crazy, but isn't it always lol.**

 **Thank-you so much those of you who reviewed chapter 3, I absolutely love hearing your thoughts! I would like to hear from some more of you on this story as it is different from my other ones. The chapters are much shorter, kind of choppy and mysterious (at least that's what I'm going for) but it would be so amazing to get some more feedback. Things don't necessarily come across how I think they read lol.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **I hope you have a wonderful week!**


	5. Rooms

Chapter 5 – Rooms

White.

This time, the room is white.

Again, there are no windows or doors, but now, I know that doesn't mean there is no way out.

But why?

It always seems to be the question.

"What's really going on here?" I ask. "I know you say I won't believe you and that I have to figure it out on my own, but things are very strange. I don't think there's much that I won't believe at this point."

I sit across from Malfoy at a white table, matching in shade and brightness of the room itself. It is a bit disconcerting and my eyes aren't liking the bright light, making me want to squint.

"You need to remember what happened to you," he simply tells me.

" _To_ me? Something happened _to_ me?" I don't like the sound of that.

Malfoy nods.

Something.

Opposite.

Opposite to this.

And with that realization, the room begins to dim. The walls transform from smooth white to a dark, stone-like surface. I stand up as the table and chairs move, join and elongate to form stairs. The walls seem to close in, making the space smaller. And it's cold and damp and dark.

Darker and darker the room becomes.

And with the darkness comes fear.

I am afraid.

Terrified.

I don't know why. I don't know what's coming, but I'm petrified. My hands shake, breathing comes fast, my heart beats against my ribcage like a drum.

Footsteps.

I hear footsteps above me, coming closer.

A door creaks open at the top of the staircase and ever so slowly, the footsteps descend.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

It creaks.

I move backwards as far as I can, until my back hits the cool surface behind me.

And the fear takes hold of everything within me, freezing me to the spot. I can't breathe, I can't scream, the terror overtakes me.

"Granger."

Malfoy is there. He is right beside me. But he can't protect me. No one can. Not from this.

"Granger, you can change it," he reminds me. "Close your eyes and change it. Think of something, anything. Think of the details, think of calm."

But I can't.

I can't think of anything but disaster, but pain, but fear.

Light.

I can see light.

Simply closing my eyes seems far too frightening. I can't do this. I can't do what he's asking.

"Granger," he urges. "Trust me. It will be over when you think of something else."

But I can't.

Then blackness.

What is he doing?

Malfoy is covering my eyes!

I can feel him against me, feel his tight hold, and I fight, struggling against his grip. I have to move, have to get out of here! Someone is coming! They're right there!

"Think," he whispers next to my ear. "Where do you want to go?"

The beach.

* * *

And Malfoy loosens his grip, stepping away from me.

What I see is not the small, dark room of impending doom, but the water.

I'm shaking, tears rolling down my face.

And I fall to my knees, unable to stand any longer on my trembling legs.

"What the hell was that?" I demand to know.

"A memory," he replies quietly, sitting down beside me.

I dig my hands into the sand, hoping to return some warmth to my extremities.

"What do you mean, a memory?" I ask. "I don't understand. It was so real . . . I just . . . I've never . . ."

"You will. You'll understand. All if it," Malfoy tells me. "Eventually."

I take a deep breath to calm my, still racing, heart.

We sit in silence, the pulse of the ocean the only sound between us.

"Why here?" he finally asks. "Why is this the place we come back to? I mean, I understand it's nice, it's calming, but there must be something else."

I think about that for a moment.

"I can't really place it, the feeling it gives," I start. "It's calming, yes, but . . . I don't know. It's familiar maybe."

"Nothing overly significant then?"

What's he searching for here?

"Is it supposed to be?" I ask.

"Not necessarily," he responds. "Just wondering."

We return to silence; open, mysterious, lonely.

For a moment, I feel so alone.

I miss my friends.

Harry and Ron.

I miss them.

I have no idea how long it's been. It could be only minutes for all I know.

But it feels like a long time, and they feel very far away. I don't know where I am, but there is this sensation of distance looking out at the seemingly never ending vastness of the ocean before me.

I'm alone.

"We're all alone," Malfoy says.

Did I say that out loud? I didn't think so, but I must have. I'm such an idiot. Malfoy is helping me – I think – and here I go saying how lonely I am with him sitting right beside me.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . ."

"It's alright," he stops me. "I get that feeling a lot."

He looks at me with this small, half smile, and that moment is gone. I'm not alone. Wherever I am, he's here too. Whatever I'm going through, he is as well.

We aren't alone.

We're together.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello wonderful people! I hope you all had a great week. Thanks for checking out my latest chapter!**

 **What was going on with what Malfoy claimed was a memory? Did she really say that out loud? Are you still as confused as Hermione is?**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts!  
**

 **Thank-you so much to those few of you who left your comments, I always appreciate your thoughts and love hearing any guesses you have or questions you face. They'll all be answered in time but I'm going for confusion now so as things unfold there will be one of those 'ohhhhhh' moments.**

 **Here I go, diving into another insane week, but I hope yours is awesome and I will post again** **next Sunday!**

 **~TheQuietAwakening**


	6. Hogwarts

Chapter 6 – Hogwarts

We walk.

Side by side.

The sand is never-ending, as vast as the ocean beside us.

And I realize how illogical all of this truly is. None of this should be able to happen.

Scenes melting into new ones, memories relived as reality, walls, people, fading to mist, the ability to change the world by simply thinking of it.

This isn't real.

It can't be.

So, what is it then?

"Is this all in my head?" I ask.

"Most of it," he slowly replies. "Not all though." His eyes meet mine. "Not me."

I smile. "You seem the least real of it all."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Malfoy questions.

"Well, you're supposed to hate me. You're supposed to be mean and selfish and cruel. And now," I explain. "Now you seem different. You seem like a made up version of yourself." I pause. "Are you sure you aren't my imagination, some type of hallucination?"

"Am I in your imagination?" he raise a brow suggestively.

"Stop it!" I give a short laugh and lightly slap him on the arm. "I'm being serious. Am I hallucinating? Am I talking to myself?"

"No," he tells me. "I assure you, you aren't."

"I'm not. . . insane?" I'm genuinely worried. It's the only answer my mind can come up with. I have gone mad and I am wandering around in a daze, seeing things that are only in my head.

"You're not insane," he says seriously.

"But nothing's real. All in my head," I clarify skeptically.

"Except me," he adds.

"And I'm not insane," I continue.

"Correct."

"So . . . I still have no idea what's going on," I admit.

Malfoy chuckles. "Don't worry about it."

"Don't _worry_ about it? _Of course_ I'm going to worry about it!" I tell him.

"I told you, you'll understand. And you will. It'll just take some time," he informs me.

"Why you? I still don't understand that part either. As I said before, you're supposed to hate me," I question. "Please answer me this time. Why you?"

"You said it yourself," he says, "we're connected."

"That doesn't answer anything." I stop walking.

Malfoy turns to face me.

"Do you trust me?" he asks.

"I don't know yet," I respond truthfully. "Would you show me something else? Truth, or whatever?"

He takes a deep breath.

"Do you believe that things might have been different than what Potter told you?" he inquires.

I think back to the scene at Malfoy Manor. That wasn't a demonstration of evil, of pride in his Death Eater status, but of fear, lack of choice, pain.

"I believe there are two sides to every story," I tell him. And maybe no one as ever heard his.

Malfoy shakes his head. "They haven't. Not really. No one's ever asked."

Wait.

"Now, I know I didn't say that out loud," I state.

"Granger, we're in your mind. Whatever you say to yourself, you say to me," he informs me.

I stare at him. "And, you aren't my imagination."

He rolls his eyes. "We talked about this. No. I'm not."

If he can hear my thoughts, why can't I hear his?

Malfoy shrugs. "I don't really know. Not exactly sure how this whole thing works."

"So, why did you show me what you did, at Malfoy Manor?" I ask, curious.

"To be honest, I didn't mean to. It came to my mind and just appeared. Didn't even know that could happen," he says.

And for a moment, I wonder. Was that what was going on that year at school? That year when Harry was set on finding out his supposedly evil deeds? I remember how he started to look, it would explain a lot.

Suddenly, things start to change around me.

I look at Malfoy. Is he showing me something else?

The scene becomes Hogwarts; the Slytherin common room to be exact. There are anonymous people sitting on the sofas, walking around the room. But they aren't who I am supposed to be seeing.

I've never been here before, but somehow, I know where to go. In front of me, a door appears.

I hear crashing noises.

Something breaking.

Slowly, cautiously, I open the door.

Malfoy. He throws something – I can't quite see what it is – but it smashes on the door frame above my head.

He is out of breath. He's crying. He has given up.

Malfoy slumps down onto the bed holding his head in his hands, grasping his hair between his fingers, shoulders shaking with sobs.

I feel a pull. I'm not wanted here. But I can't leave.

He's hurting. He's afraid of what he has to do. He's overwhelmed by the pressure placed upon him. I can feel it.

The pulling sensation grows. Anger, fear, shame. I can't tell whether it is coming from the Malfoy in the scene before me, or from somewhere else.

The sobs suddenly stop. The boy in front of me takes a deep breath and his hands slide away from his shiny, tear-stained face.

Determination.

It is the look in his eyes.

And it frightens me.

It frightens him.

But he'll do it, whatever it is he has to do, because he must.

I am pulled out of the memory, the scene once more fading to the beach.

Malfoy is furious.

He turns and marches away, sand licking up at his heels.

I run after him, desperately trying to understand.

"Why did you show me that?" I yell.

He whips around. "I didn't! I would never want you to see that! You chose it!"

I stay still, watching him walk away.

What have I done?

"I'm sorry," I whisper, wondering if he can still hear me, desperately hoping he can, as I wipe away a tear of my own.

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **Hello beautiful souls!  
**

 **Thanks for checking out this chapter!**

 **Just to let you guys know if you are following along and only opened up to this most recent chapter, I updated a small section of Chapter 5 thanks to a suggestion made by lun27. Hopefully it makes that part a bit more realistic and more . . . I don't know how to describe it lol. But I'd love to hear some thoughts on it if you feel like checking that out!**

 **This chapter. Do either of them really know what is going on or how to control it? sshanoltzer44 suggested that maybe Hermione can't hear what Malfoy is thinking because he is great at hiding his thoughts and emotions. I think that may very well be part of it (he is an occlumens after all), but they are also in _Hermione's_ mind, so that could also play a role. Let me know what you think!**

 **Also, I know many of you have a bit better idea of what is going on than Hermione herself now, but I think it would be difficult to understand in the situation, because it feels real. Her concern with insanity also comes from the level of significance and importance intelligence plays in her life.**

 **Where did Malfoy go? Will he come back? Is Hermione trapped in this strange world all alone? What are your thoughts?**

 **Thank-you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. This past week was complete hell with everything possible going wrong. But looking back on your comments made things just a little bit better. Also, 'Good to You' finally made it past 130 reviews after being at 129 for months (which bugged me so much lol) so, that was good as well. That's just to say that your words mean so much to me and when I'm having a rough time with school and life, I read them over to know that someone appreciates what I do.**

 **Wow this author's note got long. Sorry about that.**

 **For those of you who made it this far lol, I hope you all have a lovely week and I will update again next Sunday!**


	7. Memory

Chapter 7 – Memory

I sit alone.

It's the first time since I came to this mysterious place, apparently in my mind. Malfoy has always been there. But now, I am alone.

And I feel. . .

Empty.

Lost.

Terrified that I could slip once more into a memory and not be able to get myself out.

But he left and I don't know where he went.

I didn't even know he _could_ leave.

Can I leave?

Is it that simple?

And once again I feel the sharp stab of loneliness piercing through my bones.

All around me is vast distance that I don't know how to cross.

I yearn to cross it.

I'm confused, afraid, angry at this place in my head, at myself.

I realize now that Malfoy, the boy who hated me, who made me feel like I could never be good enough to belong in his world, the one who made me doubt everything about myself, that boy; he makes me feel safe.

Made.

He made me feel safe.

But he's gone.

He was so angry that I saw what I did.

I didn't mean to.

Maybe I should have found a way to leave as soon as I felt the pull, felt the sensation of being unwanted there, of anger, of shame. I should have left.

Now I know.

I know Harry was right about what was going on that year, but he was terribly wrong about why. He couldn't have possibly understood how Malfoy could do the things he did, but I can. I've done some terrible things myself to protect the people I love.

But now I sit, alone, on the shore, letting fistfuls of sand slowly slip through my fingers.

There are two sides of every story, and the terror we faced during the war was matched by those on the other.

It's something we never considered before. But it means so much.

Stuck.

That's what we were; what we all were.

Stuck in our positions, the roles into which we were born, never given a choice, the option to decide for ourselves what we believed. It was pushed upon us by fate.

Cruel fate.

"Cruel fate indeed."

Malfoy.

I turn to him as he moves to sit beside me.

"You came back," I note.

For some reason, I'm relieved.

So relieved.

He came back.

I'm not alone.

I'm not lost, alone, in a world inside my thoughts.

Somehow, I feel full again.

And that scares me.

It scares me how much I want him to stay, how worried I am that he will leave again.

He nods. "I don't like where I am out there."

"Where are you?" I ask. "Out there?"

"Did you remember anything else?" he inquires.

"No," I reply. He didn't answer my question. Why doesn't he want to tell me?

"Pity."

He wants me to remember. He _needs_ me to remember.

But remember what?

That room flashes in my mind. The one filled with darkness, with utter terror.

"You said . . ." I start. "You said that . . . place . . . it was a memory."

Malfoy nods again.

"But I don't think I've ever been there," I tell him.

"I assure you, you have," he says.

Silence.

"What's your job?" he asks, quite suddenly. Is he trying to help me remember something? "After the war, in the past year or so, what do you do?"

I think about it.

Time.

It seems like a long forgotten concept.

The war.

How long has it been since the war?

Two years? Three?

I remember the ministry.

Court rooms. Wizard court rooms.

Something to do with Harry and Ron.

They're aurors so . . .

And it hits me.

"I work in the department of magical law enforcement in the ministry," I tell him, surprising myself. "It's strange, because I never wanted to go into law." I still don't fully understand why he asked the question.

"Funny how things change," he says, but doesn't go on.

Why did he want me to remember that?

Does my job in the ministry have something to do with what happened to me?

I stare out at the water, trying to remember what we were working on.

Death Eaters.

The ones who escaped after the war ended.

Though I can't seem to recall how it all connects.

But I know it's important, that somehow, it does indeed relate.

"I have to go back don't I," I state. "Back to the memory."

"Yes," he replies.

"I really don't want to," I admit.

"There are a lot of things in life that we don't want to do, that are frightening, but we have to do them anyway," he tells me.

"Will you be there?" I find myself asking.

"I will. Promise," Malfoy assures.

"Alright then," I say, determined to face this.

* * *

The walls are built around us, the world darkens, and those dreaded stairs return.

Where's Malfoy? I can't see him.

The fear is back, gripping me like a noose around my neck, threatening to take the floor from beneath me.

Pain.

Everything hurts.

Why does it hurt? Why does it hurt so badly? I fall to the floor. Every inch of my body is on fire with an ache that reaches down to my very bones.

And the terror is filling me once again as I hear the footsteps, the door creaking open, and the slow descent.

One step.

Two steps.

Three steps.

The stair creaks.

This time, I don't change the scene. I have to stay. I have to remember what happened.

" _Lumos._ _"_

I recognize the voice. I would remember it anywhere.

The wand lights and I see her face.

Bellatrix Lestrange herself.

But how is this possible? She was killed.

Here she is, standing in front of me with a sadistic grin on her face.

Malfoy said he would be here with me. He promised I wouldn't be alone.

But something catches my eye in the corner of the room.

Someone else is here.

Malfoy.

He's bleeding and bruised and in pain. He's here with me. Is this how we are connected?

He can't help me; he can't help us.

My fear only makes her cackle with glee sending me farther into my panicked state.

We have to get out of here! We have to go, now!

I try to think of the beach once again and pry my mind away from the scene before me.

I try.

We need to get out of here!

Why isn't my mind responding!

I find the strength deep inside myself, find the courage to close my eyes as Bellatrix approaches, find it within me to take a deep breath and focus.

Sand.

Calming waves.

Warmth.

And once more we are on the shore.

I'm shaking.

How can this happen?

"You assured me you would be there, because you were there. You were there with me," I whisper.

Malfoy nods.

"But she was killed," I continue. "This shouldn't have happened."

"You might not know that part," he says.

"What part?"

"The part were her husband brought her back to lead the group of escaped Death Eaters," he informs me.

"How could he possibly do that?" I ask.

"I don't know exactly," he admits, "but I know it's dangerous, a lot can go wrong. Rodolphus was looking into some ancient dark magic. Something about recreating the body and attracting the soul to possess it."

"That's horrifying." I'm astounded that he would even try something like that.

Malfoy nods his agreement.

"But, why us? Were there others? What did they want?" I question.

"You learned something you weren't supposed to, and me, well, I defected. She wasn't too happy about that," Malfoy explains.

Yes, I remember the trial now. It was all over the news. Harry and especially Ron weren't having any of it, even after what he did in the final battle. He was still a Death Eater and anyone affiliated with them deserved to be punished. They were pretty upset when he came out with only mandatory magical probation.

"So, it's all true then," I say quietly.

"Of course, it is." He seems hurt.

"You can't blame us for being suspicious," I tell him. "But I do admit, we didn't really care to hear more. And," I pause, "I am sorry about that."

A silence settles between us. It's peaceful; such a contrast from the previous scene.

"Am I dead?" I ask cautiously.

"No. Not yet."

I don't know whether to be relieved or frightened by the revelation. What does that mean?

"Do you remember anything else?" he asks.

Pain. There was a lot of pain.

"She tortured us, didn't she." It was more of a statement than a question.

He nods, not adding anything else.

But there is something more; something that he is both sad and relieved that I can't quite yet remember. It's something involving him.

And me.

And what happened to us at the bottom of those stairs.

Then it clicks.

He saved my life.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello my beautiful readers!**

 **This week was a little better than last week, yay! I hope you all had at least a decent one as well.**

 **What do you think about the revelations in this chapter? Revelations like Bellatrix, the possibility of a connection to her job, Harry and Ron, the** **fact that Malfoy saved her life?**

 **Also, I feel like the transitions are a bit fast and . . . just off. I'm not sure if it's just me, but I've tried and I don't know how to fix it. If you have any thoughts about that as well, let me know!**

 **Thank-you so much those of you who reviewed. You always make my day when I see a notification. Even a little note to say you enjoyed it means so much.**

 **I hope you guys have a lovely week and I'll see you next Sunday!**


	8. Break

Chapter 8 - Break

I stare at him.

Why?

Why would he save me?

Why would he care?

It doesn't make sense.

My mind can't wrap itself around the concept that Draco Malfoy would save _me_.

And he's conflicted.

I can feel his tormented soul.

He wants me to know something.

Desperately.

But at the same time, he's afraid.

How can I feel his emotions as my own?

I guess it has something to do with how he can hear my thoughts.

And I want to know what he is conflicted to tell me.

Desperately.

Answers.

Oh, how I want answers.

"I wish I could," Malfoy says quietly. "But I've told you before, you have to remember on your own. If I tell you now," he pauses and takes a deep breath. "If I tell you now, you'll never know."

I raise a brow.

"Riddles now?" I accuse.

He shakes his head. "I want you to know, want you to remember. You have no idea how much."

I know how much.

And it confuses me.

Because there's something more than self preservation hidden in the wish.

He said he needed me to trust him so that he could survive.

What could Draco Malfoy want other than to live?

And once again, I feel the twist of hurt.

I shake my head, not knowing what to do.

I don't even have to talk and yet I hurt him.

I'm so frustrated that I can't even think in private.

How am I supposed to figure anything out with someone else listening into my every thought?

Especially when what I am trying to figure out is him.

How can I do this?

Can I walk away?

Can I walk away like he did?

I turn.

Without another word, I turn, and I run.

I can't handle this!

I can't handle all the feelings!

I can't separate my own from his or keep my thoughts to myself.

So I run.

I feel the balls of my feet sinking deep into the sand with every step, feel my lungs heave for breath, my heart pound in my chest.

I run.

I run from the feelings that I don't want to acknowledge.

Because I can't tell if they are his or mine.

And it scares me.

Terrifies me.

I run.

And get nowhere.

Surrounding me is still beach, the water still sprawls beside me, and nothing else is in sight.

I see him.

He is small, in the distance behind me.

He is standing exactly how I left him, staring after me.

And I don't want him to hear my thoughts, I don't want to be able to feel what he feels.

For a moment, I want to be alone.

Alone with my thoughts, alone with my own emotions.

I drop to my knees in the sand.

How has it come to this?

How did my life become so messed up?

When did he become so . . .

I laugh.

It has finally hit me.

The weight of what is happening, of being here, with Malfoy, and unable to leave, unable to remember, it's like someone pushed me to the ground and is holding me down, holding my face in the sand so I struggle to breath.

Some people might cry at this point. Some might scream. Some people might dissociate from this make-shift reality.

But me, I laugh.

I laugh because I want to be alone.

I laugh because I don't how long ago it was that I sat on this very beach, angry with myself and with him, because he left.

How the hell did he leave?

Where could he possibly have gone?

Out there.

He said he was out there.

More questions with fewer answers.

I didn't want to be alone.

I didn't want to be alone and now I ran as fast and as far from him so that I would be.

But I'm still here.

He was able to leave and I am still here, trapped.

What even is time?

It strikes me that the sun has always been in the same place in the sky; the same clear, blue sky. I don't remember a night; I don't remember a morning or an evening.

And I laugh.

I laugh because I am going insane, trapped inside my mind with _him_.

And I don't know what I think about it.

I don't know what I think about it and I am inside of my own head.

Hermione Granger, what the hell has happened to you?

My thoughts are circular, spirals of never ending confusion, pain, fear, and . . .

Absolutely not.

Neither of us are thinking that.

But in any case, this has got to be some type of turning point in my life where I become a completely different person.

Is that what happened to him?

Something snapped the world into perspective?

The insane illusion of a world inside my head.

I'm overwhelmed with thoughts, with emotions, with never-ending uncertainty and confusion that has me curled into a ball on the sand laughing like some crazed woman, utterly mad, laughing because I am too overwhelmed, too confused, even to cry.

I can't even remember what happened yet.

I haven't remembered why he saved me or what he saved me from.

All I know is he did.

And that realization sends me back a step.

I need to know.

I have to go back.

Pulling myself together, I push my body from the sand.

I have to go back to the memory.

I have to see what happened.

It's the only way I'll know.

But the real question in all of this is:

Do I want to know?

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello beautiful readers! I hope you had an amazing week. Mine was a little crazy once again, but isn't it always?**

 **This chapter actually wasn't the one I originally had for chapter eight, but I wrote it to show a bit more of how Hermione is dealing with everything, or was dealing in this case. I wanted to show that she isn't a damsel in distress and has been strong up until this point, but I also wanted to demonstrate how overwhelmed she really is, and has been holding it back. She is overwhelmed and afraid but she fights and pushes through. Let me know if it came across or if the chapter even made sense. I'm not really sure if it did lol. But that might also be the point, because her own thoughts would probably be pretty chaotic.**

 **Anyway, thank-you so much to those of you who left me comments, I love you guys!**

 **I hope you have a really great week and I will post chapter nine next Sunday!**


	9. Pain

Chapter 9: Pain

The room, the dark, the fear, the pain.

It rushes back with a vengeance.

Agony.

It burns through me.

"Where is it!" Bellatrix shrieks.

The fang of the basilisk, the one we used to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes.

She wants it.

I don't know why, but she desperately wants it.

"Tell me!" she yells once again.

But I don't know.

I don't know where it is.

It was a long time ago and that day was so chaotic and with only two goals; destroy Voldemort and stay alive.

The curse is lifted, only for a moment, and I find it within my last bit of strength to cry out: "I don't know!"

And it startles her.

I don't know.

Maybe she will finally kill me.

Maybe.

And the pain is back.

A fire has alighted within my body.

I writhe.

Thrashing my body against the ground, tears stream down my face.

I scream until the last croaking sound from my raw throat leaves me, and it becomes a shrieking whisper.

It burns.

Every nerve is alight with agony.

She always lifted it before, but not this time.

This time, she is angry.

She is angry at my lack of knowledge, because she finally realized that I don't know.

I want to die.

I can't . . .

I can't do this. . .

Can't handle it anymore . . .

I am losing myself.

I want this to be over.

The pain, eating me alive from the inside out.

I want to die.

I want to let go.

The pain . . .

It's too much.

And I feel myself fading, feel myself losing my thoughts, losing my mind.

Distance.

I feel my consciousness pulling away, retreating back, separating itself from torment surrounding every sense.

Darkness pulls at the corners.

Life fades.

My only hope is that death will take me soon.

And it stops.

I'm barely conscious but I can hear his screams.

Malfoy stopped it. He stopped her. He took the pain on himself.

I struggle to breathe, struggle to stay in the room.

Because now, he is in that agony.

But I can't.

The pain is still too great.

And no matter how hard I try, I feel myself slipping from consciousness.

* * *

The world lights once more and the pain slowly fades away until I can feel the sand beneath me and hear the rush of the waves.

Quickly, I wipe the wetness from my cheeks with the backs of my shaking hands.

"Are you alright?"

Malfoy.

He is once more beside me.

And once more, I am confused.

I don't understand him, or who he has become.

"I . . . I think so," I reply, heart still hammering in my chest.

I can't look at him.

I don't know why he did what he did, so I stare out at the ocean and pull my knees up to my chest.

He's silent.

I want to know why.

Why would he do that?

Why would he take that curse for me?

He clears his throat, hearing my questions in my thoughts.

"There are more important things than that."

Now, I am even more confused.

"There was more to that memory than what I did," he tells me.

"The fang," I recall, though I really want to know about his actions rather than hers. But, I'll play along. I turn my gaze back to him. Maybe I can catch a hint in his eyes. "Why would she want it?"

"Think about where it came from, the story behind it."

I consider it.

It came from the basilisk and was able to destroy the Horcruxes.

But that doesn't explain why Bellatrix would want it.

"Go back farther," Malfoy commands.

I roll my eyes at his firm words, but do what he says.

The Chamber of Secrets.

Ginny.

She was possessed and Harry went to save her.

That's when we first learned about the creature.

"Farther," he says.

The time it was opened fifty years prior.

Tom Riddle.

He commanded it. It was practically _his_.

"There."

"I still don't understand. The basilisk fang was indirectly Voldemort's possession? Why would Bellatrix want that?" I ask.

"Because everything else was destroyed beyond use."

"Beyond use for what?"

There's a pause.

I feel his fear.

It's as though he thinks saying it will make it real.

Maybe it's something else.

But he's afraid.

Why is he afraid?

"Promise me something," he says quietly.

"Alright?" I'm a little uncertain.

"Promise me that you'll keep trying to remember, that you won't. . . panic. I need you to keep trying to remember everything you can. You are not allowed to freak out, not allowed to freeze. If you know this, know that there is only one thing you can do about the situation, here, and nothing else. Remember." He looks straight at me, his eyes searching mine. "This . . . situation. You can't directly do anything about it here and you have to be okay with that. Tell me you're okay with that."

He's scaring me.

No, I'm not okay with that. Not really.

But I guess. . . I guess I can be logical enough to accept it.

"Alright. I'll keep trying to remember. I won't panic." I say the last part timidly. I can't necessarily promise that.

But I want to know.

I need to know.

Malfoy takes a deep breath.

"Bellatrix was only the first. The test-run if you will," he starts.

"What do you mean?"

The gears are turning in my mind.

What is he trying to say?

There will be more of these evil people coming back from the grave?

What does the basilisk have to do with any of it?

The gears click into place.

I do what Malfoy made me promise not to.

My blood runs cold.

I freeze.

Eyes wide.

"You promised," he whispers.

I can't say it out loud.

And now I know why he didn't want to either.

So I ask him in my mind.

Am I correct.

For merlin's sake, please tell me I'm wrong.

He nods his head.

And my world explodes.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello you shining stars. Thank-you so much for coming back and reading chapter 9! I hope you have had an awesome week.**

 **What do you think it is that they are both too afraid to say out loud? Did you figure it out? Let me know what you thought of the chapter! A lot of it was written yesterday and was actually supposed to be part of the next chapter, but I wanted to give you guys the chance to guess, so, send me your thoughts!**

 **Thank-you so much to my two readers who always review;** **lun27** **and sshanholtzer44.  I love you guys and your thoughtful comments! **

**You probably don't really care, but I'm now on spring reading break, off from school for the next week, so I'll be able to breathe again! Exciting! Also means that I'll be able to reply sooner than I have been.**

 **I hope you guys have a great week! I'll be doing a lot of sleeping, a little homework, a little writing, and I'll have the next chapter up next Sunday.**


	10. Found

Chapter 10 - Found

I said I wouldn't panic.

I promised.

But that's exactly what I'm doing.

The frozen state is over and my fight or flight response is kicking in.

My heart is pounding; I can feel myself starting to hyperventilate.

This can't be happening.

It can't be real.

But Malfoy confirmed it . . .

No, it can't be . . .

Harry fixed it . . .

" _Granger."_

He saved us . . .

" _Granger."_

Everything was supposed to be fine after . . .

"Hermione."

I stare at him.

He used my first name.

"I knew it was a bad idea to tell you before you remembered everything," he says, more to himself than to me.

"What?" I finally reply.

"Are you back?" he asks, brows raised.

"Back?"

"Deep breaths," he tells me.

And I feel my heart rate declining, my mind settles, just a bit.

Is he. . .

I look down to see his hand grasping mine.

He pulls it away.

I open my mouth to ask why he keeps doing these things, but think better of it.

"You weren't fully. . . present," he explains quietly. Answering my previous question?

He changes tones. "Can you at least keep part of your promise? Try to remember what else happened? Or you could completely disregard it and continue to freak out in your head."

"Sorry," I say. "It's quite a lot to comprehend."

I can't do anything.

I just have to remind myself that I can't do anything.

Not here, not now.

And it's hard.

I feel so helpless.

"I know," he replies in a softer voice. "Just . . . remember."

I take one more deep breath, feeling my lungs expand with mentally conjured air.

I have to.

Remember.

I still don't know everything.

And I do want to know.

But can I focus enough? Can I focus my thoughts enough to get back out?

Yes.

Well, I really hope so.

I'll try.

And Malfoy's relieved.

Once more, those walls, the dark, the pain; they surround me.

It's just us.

Almost just me.

Malfoy isn't doing well. Barely conscious, breath uneven.

Bellatrix is gone.

I have no idea how long it's been since he took that curse for me, but I can feel my body, and even more so my mind, gathering strength.

There is a thumping above us, screams, cries, blasts of curses.

My mind is still quite foggy and I can't seem to understand what might be going on.

Light.

Why is there light?

There's a very large hole at the top of the stairs.

Those dreaded stairs.

I hear a yell; the voice is familiar and fills my heart with hope.

We've been found, but they haven't gotten to us. Perhaps they don't even know we're here.

But light.

Some curse has blasted through the door.

And there is a path to escape.

But Malfoy.

I don't see how he could make it that far.

With all my strength I try to drag him towards the stairs.

"Draco!"

I call his name.

Why am I calling is first name?

"Draco!" I scream again.

But he doesn't respond.

And I know I am too weak to get him up the stairs.

I don't want to leave him, I really don't, but I know I have to.

"I'll come back," I say to him. "I'll tell them you're here. I'll save you. I promise."

And I'm crawling; crawling up the stairs because I don't yet have the strength to stand. It feels so far, as though the stairs are never ending, but they do, they end, and I reach the top.

Harry.

I see him.

He's battling someone, and they fall to the ground.

He sees me.

He calls me name.

And he's rushing towards me.

Curses are flying over my head, lighting my vision with various colours.

I'm not even afraid.

Nothing could be worse than what I've already faced.

I need to tell him about Malfoy.

He needs to find those stairs!

And I try to yell, I try to speak, but the world around me is so full of noise and my own voice is so soft and broken, I can't even hear it myself.

I'm hit.

I don't know what it was, but my back is on fire and I am flying through the air.

My head seems to explode as it cracks against the wall.

Blackness.

* * *

The end.

I know that was the end of my memories.

There are still missing spots here and there, but that was the ending of what happened to me.

I don't like what I saw.

And for a moment, I'm disgusted with myself.

"I left you," I whisper, shocked at my revelation. "You saved me, took the curse for me, and I left you there."

"You did what you had to do," Malfoy tells me, staring out at the sea.

"Did they find you? Did they search the place and find you anyway?" I ask, desperately hoping that the answer is yes.

But he shakes his head no and my heart breaks.

"I'm sorry," I tell him, tears welling in my eyes.

"I got you into this mess in the first place. I'm the one who should be sorry," Malfoy says, still not looking at me.

And I remember the package I received at my flat, the one with the code.

The location.

I was going to tell Harry at the ministry, but I knew that someone might be after me, so I hid clues for the aurors to find in the case of something happening. This was important, the location of the escaped Death Eaters. I couldn't risk it dying with me.

And something did happen.

"You sent the package," I realize. "Why?"

Malfoy turns to me.

"Because someone had to stop them," he explains. "And you were the only one I knew could decode it and get the information to people who would listen, who would do something about it."

"No one would listen to you?" I ask, already knowing the answer.

"Not about this. Well, not about anything really, but especially not this." He takes a deep breath. "They'd assume I only knew in the first place because I was a part of it. Which I wasn't."

"So you sent it to me." I understand now.

"And in so doing, became the betrayer," he adds quietly.

"What?" Now I'm confused again. He has said it before, that he's the betrayer, and I didn't think much of it then. But he isn't talking about the defection, the trial. He's talking about something different.

"The spell," he begins to explain. "the significant object of the deceased, some part of their original body, and the blood of a betrayer." He takes a breath. "The last time I went back. . . they found the fang. They have all the pieces. They just need a large body of water - something about the power of waves - and a full moon. We all know the power of that."

They have the parts of the spell.

They found the fang.

They're going to bring Voldemort back.

And they're going to kill Malfoy to do it.

My heart races.

"How do we stop it? How do I get back to Harry and Ron? Tell me what to do!" I demand.

"That's the tricky part, remember? It's the part we can't really do anything about at the moment," he says.

"Why? Why can't we do anything? You left! Why can't I?"

"We have to wait for you to wake up."

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello my amazing readers! I hope you had a really great week! Mine was super relaxing, but now, I must return to the usual busy insanity of University life.**

 **Things are starting to come together in the story now. What do you think of these most recent revelations? How can Hermione save him when she's trapped?**

 **Let me know what you thought! Have you been guessing correctly?**

 **Thank-you so much to those few who reviewed the last chapter, they** **really mean so much to me!**

 **Thanks so much for reading! I'll post chapter 11 as usual next Sunday.**


	11. Wait

Chapter 11 - Wait

"Wake up?" Since when have I been asleep?

"Hermione," Malfoy says softly. Why is he using my first name? "You're in a coma."

And just like that, the breath is stolen from my lungs.

I'm in a coma.

It doesn't make any sense.

Yet, it makes perfect sense.

It's all in my mind, I knew that. The world can shift around me; I change things by simply thinking about them.

My memory.

It explains why I have had such trouble remembering.

The curse. I hit my head. Hard.

None of this is real.

Malfoy.

He's real.

At least, he says he is.

But we have to do something! We can't just sit here and wait for the world to crumble! And if I am indeed in a coma, it isn't possible to make any difference here, just like he's been telling me.

And I don't like being helpless.

Maybe there is some way I can make contact.

Harry doesn't know! He doesn't know to stop it!

I have to make sure he knows!

But I can't.

And I know how illogical my thoughts are becoming.

No. No, this can't be happening!

I try to use reason, try to think logically, but everything's a mess.

I'm supposed to be good at this!

But my thoughts refuse to settle.

"Are you alright?" he asks, but I am too shocked to speak.

We have to do something!

I would be alright if I was just able to do something!

But I'm helpless.

I'm asleep.

And I don't even know for how long.

Why is he even here, helping me to remember if it will make no difference?

Nothing will make a difference.

Because I'm asleep.

I'm in a coma.

And I am useless.

The world is about to be utterly destroyed.

They don't even know it's coming.

And I can do nothing.

"Hermione!" He grabs my hand once again.

And in an instant, my panic begins to fade. In an instant, I start to feel like things will be alright. In an instant, I believe in him.

"You'll be alright," he tells me. "Trust the healers."

I take a deep breath. Trust the healers. They'll fix me. They will wake me up.

Malfoy stands, pulling me up from my place in the sand.

"Let's go," he says quietly.

"Go where?" I ask.

He doesn't reply; just walks.

And around me, the scene changes back to the field with green grass and purple flowers.

"I know you think the ocean, that beach, is your happy place. You think it can calm you when you don't know what's happening, give you a sense of safety when you're afraid. But you're wrong," he says.

It surprises me that our hands are still intertwined, though I don't pull away. It's strange, but isn't it all? Maybe there is something else I'm missing. I still don't quite understand how Malfoy is here with me, why he is the only thing that is real. I don't remember everything that happened, though I predict I remember all the big things and that's why he finally told me about my current state.

But why he holds my hand, I don't quite know.

Why do I let him?

Why does it calm me?

There seems to be a large change from the Malfoy I knew before to the Malfoy here with me now.

I wonder what he meant when he said I was wrong about the ocean being my happy place, about that being what brings me comfort. What did he mean by that? Does he think he knows me better than I know myself?

I highly doubt that.

Does he mean here, among the flowers? Is this my happy place?

We are still walking and I don't know where he is leading me to. There isn't really any place to go.

But then I see it; the blanket laid on the grass, the bottles of whisky.

"What is this?" I ask.

"Celebrating," Malfoy simply states.

"Celebrating what, exactly? The world is falling apart out there."

"Let's not think about that. Your memory. You remember," he says with a small smile. But something is missing and I can't quite place it. There is a disappointment that he hides from me. "Plus, I really want to get wasted."

I can't help but laugh.

"Can we even get drunk here?" I question skeptically.

"Not sure, but your mind seems to be full of surprises, and I for one am going to test it out and see," he replies.

But as he releases my hand to open the bottle, something happens.

My breathing becomes fast, my heart beats fast against my chest. The panic is back.

And I don't understand it, but Malfoy looks at me with a worried gaze and grips my hand once more.

A calm settles over me once again.

What just happened?

I stare at our hands. Why do I feel terrified and helpless and overwhelmed and then suddenly, he simply takes my hand in his and I feel calm and safe and secure and alright?

"This is your happy place," he says quietly, seeming almost shocked himself.

And I remember.

In that dark and frightening room, filled with pain and hopelessness, he's there.

He tells me that I'm strong, that I'm smart, that I'll be alright.

He wraps his bruised arms around my shaking body and pulls me close.

And I feel a hint of safety in his embrace.

He says he will protect me the very best he can and his lips gently brush against my tear stained cheek.

Everything is tainted with pain and loss, with the possibility of never seeing it again. Every thought, memory, friend, place, is trapped within a world of hopeless darkness.

Except this.

Except his arms around me.

Except his words which are my only source of comfort.

Except his lips, the only source of pleasure.

He was the only thing to keep me sane.

The distraction that kept the darkness from swallowing me whole.

With the field around me, light, and beautiful, I realize what has kept me from falling apart all along.

"Draco," I breathe, cupping his face in my hand.

My lips crash against his with a forgotten passion and as his arms come around me. And as he pulls me close, I melt into him.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello! Thanks for stopping by and checking out my new chapter! I hope you've had a good week.**

 **What do you guys think about the chapter? Some of you guessed where they are and what is happening from the start. Did you?**

 **So, I have a question for you guys. Would you like me to do a kind of flashback chapter to the missing pieces of their relationship in captivity, or just move on with the story? I have it in my head what happened there, but haven't written it and I do have the next chapter otherwise written. If you did want that, I might not be able to post the chapter next week, as my semester is getting even crazier than it has been. Please let me know what you think!**

 **Thank-you so much to those who reviewed! I'm getting back to you as soon as I can, life is insane, but I do really appreciate hearing your thoughts.**

 **Thanks again for reading!**


	12. Quake

Chapter 12 – Quake

I close my eyes and lean my head back against his chest.

We're in the field, surrounded by flowers, sitting on the soft, imaginary picnic blanket.

And he holds me.

This is beauty.

This is pleasure.

This is perfect.

And I don't want to leave.

But I know I must.

I must help my friends prevent the return of the most evil wizard to ever live. I must save Draco.

Even though I am safe and at peace in his arms, my mind is still at work, worrying in the background, questioning the things I'm experiencing.

"Will you explain it to me?" I ask, turning to face him. "How it is that you're real and everything else is only a figment of my imagination. How are you here with me?"

He takes a deep breath.

"I was desperate," he tells me. "I needed something." He pauses for a moment. "I needed something to distract myself." Because he was alone. He was going through that alone. "I practised wandless magic. Every minute I was alone, I practised. At first it was just small things, like levitation and tiny flames. And then I tried to reach out in my mind, to separate myself, my magical consciousness, from my body." He shakes his head. "The first time it worked I felt such relief. The pain was gone, if only for that moment. And I thought maybe, just maybe, I could reach out far enough to find someone."

Draco reaches out and gently brushes some hair behind my ear, letting his fingertips drag across my cheek.

"And I thought of you," he continues. "I needed to know what happened to you. I had no idea how any of this would work." He gestures to the world around us. "But I had to try. I needed to know if I had any hope of seeing you again, if you were alright."

"I wasn't, was I," I add softly. "Alright, I mean."

"No. I was quite surprised to find anything. I didn't think it would really work, didn't think I was strong enough. But you." He smiles, "You make me strong, Hermione. I would never have been able to do any of this if it wasn't for you. I was a coward; a scared, weak little boy who was too afraid to do anything about my situation, about anyone's situation. I didn't know what to do, so I did nothing. And I wanted to change after the war ended. But I don't think that would have really happened if not for you."

"What do you mean?"

"Could you imagine the old me taking a curse for anyone?" he asks.

I admit, I can't.

But there is so much more in what he's telling me.

And I'm not sure if I'm understanding correctly.

Because he did do something.

He did something that started this whole thing.

He sent me the package.

"I was selfish. But you changed me, gave me something else other than myself to lose. And I think it was because of that I'm able to be here."

There's something more.

I want him to tell me.

And he knows I do.

He just shakes his head and goes on with his story.

"Somehow, you made the perfect contact point. Well, except for the whole not waking up part," Draco admits.

I sigh.

So many thoughts are running through my head and I don't even know where to start.

Maybe he'll tell me.

Eventually.

One day, he'll tell me what he meant.

But for right now, I'll focus on this.

On my curiosity for how this came into being.

"How did it all work exactly?" I ask. "Did you see me?"

"It was different than seeing you. I couldn't; I wasn't physically there, but I could feel you. And I felt it the moment we connected. It was strange, like you almost accepted me into your mind. Then I was here and things have just been happening."

"And you went back there? Where you are physically?"

"A couple times," he says. "Not very pleasant."

"Are they still hurting you?" I inquire.

"Most of the time they're focused on their task, but I'm the betrayer," he tells me softly.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Don't be."

"They're going to kill you."

"That's why I have you," he says jokingly.

"Stop it. It's not something to joke about. I don't know how much longer I'll be in this coma, and I can't just sit here and wait while you're being tortured and have a good possibility of being killed," I express.

"You won't have to wait much longer," he tells me.

"What? How do you know?"

"I can feel it. I can feel something changing," he says. "Fast."

"Will I remember?" I ask. "Will I remember what happened here? What happened to us?"

"I don't know," he replies. "Really hope so."

"Will you go back to that place?" I question.

"Well, I'll go back to where I already am if that's what you're asking," he says.

My head begins to hurt. The pain builds, it throbs.

"It's starting," he states.

"I'll send Harry. He knows where we were, he'll come get you," I promise.

"Hermione, they moved me," Draco reveals.

"Where?"

He shakes his head. "I don't know."

The world begins to shake around us and I cling to him.

"This is a good thing," he assures me.

"I'll find you, save you," I say.

"Of course you will. You're Hermione Granger." Though I can hear doubt in his voice. "Destroy the pieces and you destroy the spell. I know you can do this."

"Oh, Draco," I whisper, tears in my eyes.

And he kisses me, strong, yet gentle, tender, loving, soft.

Like it's the last time.

"I love you," I breathe against his lips.

And he is ripped away from me.

The world crumbles; it shatters.

And once more fades to black.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello my wonderful readers! I'm sorry I** **didn't update last week. I had an assignment due practically every day this past week at Uni including a 20 page paper. But it's finished now! Things are still busy, but I had some time to edit on Saturday.**

 **Thank-you so much to those of you who reviewed the last chapter and I'm really sorry I never got around to replying. I'll do better this week! Taking into consideration what you guys said about going back to look at their growing relationship, I think I might wait until everything is pretty much revealed and then do that chapter. Let me know what you think about that as well as your thoughts on this chapter!**

 **I hope you have a great week!**


	13. Wake

Chapter 13 – Wake

Slowly, I blink open my eyes.

The world around me is fuzzy and blurred.

Light.

Bright light.

Why are the lights so bright?

And my head; it aches with a ferocious intensity.

I'm so tired and everything hurts.

Can't I just go back to sleep?

I want to go back to sleep. . .

* * *

Once again, I slowly open my eyes to the bright light of the room.

Harry.

He's by my side, my hand gripped in his.

"Hermione?" he says my name, quiet and a bit uncertain.

I try to speak but I find it's just too much energy.

"Hey, it's alright. You're going to be alright now. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you anymore," he assures me. His eyes are full of concern, fear, sadness.

Does he know? Did the healers tell him what might have happened?

He looks over me to the other side of the room and I follow his gaze with my eyes.

Ron.

He is asleep in the chair.

"He's been here a long time," Harry tries to explain.

"How . . . how long," I struggle through the words, my mind foggy and unfocused. The sound of my voice echoes through my head sending a wave of pain along with it. But I push on. "How long . . . was I . . ." But the effort is too much and I can't finish.

"Don't worry about that now," he tells me. "We found you. It took us a while, but we found your clues. You were always the smartest."

The clues.

Bellatrix.

Draco.

Everything that happened floods back.

The coma.

Draco.

Draco.

We have to find Draco.

"It's alright, you're safe now," Harry promises, seeing my panic. "You're in St. Mungo's. Everything's going to be alright."

No, everything is not going to be alright.

They brought Bellatrix back from the dead and they are trying to do the same with Voldemort. They have Draco and they're going to kill him to do that!

Everything is not going to be alright.

But I can't seem to form the words.

And I'm so tired.

So tired . . .

* * *

 _"_ _I can_ _'_ _t believe you didn_ _'_ _t wake me up!_ _"_ _It_ _'_ _s Ron and his half whisper, half yell._

 _"_ _They said it would be gradual, she wasn_ _'_ _t awake very long,_ _"_ _Harry defends._ _"_ _I didn_ _'_ _t want her to wake up to me trying to wake you up!_ _"_

 _"_ _Still! Bloody shite friend you are! You lost her! You couldn_ _'_ _t keep her safe! And now, you_ _'_ _re the only one who gets the chance to talk with her after we weren_ _'_ _t sure if we ever would again!_ _"_ _Does he blame Harry for what happened?_

 _Please don't blame Harry._

 _He doesn't need that on him._

 _Ron_ _'_ _s really quite angry._

 _I don_ _'_ _t want my friends to be angry with one another._

Gradually, I open my eyes again.

"Ron," I hoarsely make out.

Both, turn to me.

"You're awake," Ron says, seeming to forget about his argument with Harry, if only for a moment.

I try to nod but my head really doesn't like the movement.

"Hey, don't try to move," Harry tells me softly. "You had a pretty bad bump on the head."

"Have . . . have you," I struggle once again to form the words. "Did you. . . get . . . her?" I force out, but not more than a loud whisper.

"Who?" Ron asks.

"Bellatrix."

Silence.

"Hermione, Bellatrix Lestrange has been dead for nearly three years," Harry says quietly.

"No." I shake my head, which was a very bad idea. "No... They found. . . a way," I try to explain.

They must have made sure she was unseen.

"Found a way to do what?" Ron questions.

I have to make them understand. "To bring her back," I finish.

The boys look at each other.

"She was there," I swallow, my throat like sandpaper. "She was there."

An image of Draco, screaming in agony at the end of her wand flashes in my mind.

"Draco," I start.

I'm so tired again. My mind is becoming fuzzy.

"Malfoy? What about Malfoy?" Harry asks.

"Find him. You have. . . to find him," I express.

"Was he there? Did he hurt you?" Ron inquires and I can see the fury rising.

I try to shake my head once more but wince in pain.

"No," I explain. "He. . . he saved me." They have to know he wasn't part of _them_. "He was _with_ me!" I take a breath; my eyelids are becoming so heavy. "He's still there. They're still . . . hurting him."

"Hermione, we searched. We couldn't find where you came from. There was no one else there," Harry tells me.

It was magically concealed. Of course it was.

We have to find him.

"How long?" I need to know. "How long. . . has it been?" I ask. "How long was I asleep?"

I can't let myself fall back asleep. I can't.

But I can feel myself drifting.

And they don't want to tell me.

Is it really that bad?

I can't let myself fall back asleep.

I have to help save him.

"Please. Just say it," I beg.

"Almost a month. You've been in a coma twenty-seven days," Harry finally reveals.

And my heart shatters.

Twenty-seven days.

And I know, it could have been a whole lot worse. It wasn't months, it wasn't years. Twenty-seven days isn't really that bad considering how long these things can last. But still.

Draco has been alone, wherever they have him, being tortured, for twenty-seven days.

I feel hot tears in my eyes and my vision blurs.

"Hermione? Are you alright?" Harry is so concerned.

I don't want him to blame himself. I don't want him to be so worried.

"Yes," I tell him. "But Draco's not."

I can't handle this.

I can feel my body trying to pull me back under, shield me from the pain.

But I can't let it, I have to fight.

"Why would he be . . . with . . . you there?" Ron asks. "Why would they . . . hurt . . . him?"

He can't say the word.

And for some reason that disgusts me.

There's something wrong with me.

My perception is off.

I'm not understanding things.

No.

He's sweet.

He's trying his best.

But it's what happened to me, and it's happening to Draco now.

And that thought gives me a surge of energy.

"Say the word Ron. Torture." He winces. "This very moment they could be torturing him. While you sit around here, he is alone, and in pain," I say. "Find him," I plead.

It's the only thing on my mind, the only thing keeping me awake.

Find him.

Find him.

Find him.

"But why would they do that?" Ron insists on asking again.

I groan.

I just want to sleep.

No.

"Because . . . he defected! Because he was helping . . . to stop them. Because he . . . betrayed them," I explain.

A young woman wearing a white lab coat walks into the room, causing Harry and Ron to fall silent.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," she says softly. "But I need to check Miss Granger here." She turns to me. "Hello Hermione, I'm Healer Evans."

She raises her wand over me and slowly guides it down my body.

"You seem to be healing nicely. How are you feeling?" she asks.

I feel like I've been hit by a truck.

"It hurts," I tell her, knowing she probably won't appreciate the simile. "And I feel . . . really tired."

"You're coming out of a coma. It's expected that this happens slowly. I can give you something for the pain – "

I cut her off. "No. I need to have a clear head." As clear as it can be at least.

I know it's silly, but I don't want to risk forgetting again.

"Are you sure? You need to rest."

"Yes," I clarify.

"Alright then, if you change your mind, don't hesitate to ask. And if you need anything, call one of us in here. I'll be back to check on you again in a few hours," she says, giving me a small smile.

"Thanks," I tell her as she turns to leave.

"Boys, no more questions. She needs rest," Healer Evans advises them on her way out.

Harry nods, more to himself than anything.

"Rest. You need rest," he says quietly.

Healer Evans said this is normal.

This strange tiredness.

I should give in. . .

I almost give up the fight.

No.

But I can't go back to sleep.

I can't.

Find him.

Find him.

Find him.

It's all I can think.

I need to help them find Draco.

"Hermione," Ron starts, taking my hand. "You'll be okay now. The healer says to rest."

"Please. . . if you want to help me," I say, making slightly broken eye contact with each of them, "find him. Find Draco."

My body really wants to pull me back under, but I fight.

"Tell me. Tell me you will," I insist.

"Alright," Harry gives in, although it seems like that's the last thing he wants to do. "You know I don't want to leave you, but alright." He takes my other hand and gives it a squeeze. "We were so worried. We looked for you. Every day."

"I know," I assure him.

With one last squeeze of my hand, I give in.

I let myself fall asleep.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello everyone! I hope you had a an amazing week and a wonderful weekend. Sorry I didn't post on Sunday as usual, it was Easter and I decided to focus only on spending it with my family. But it was a bit longer of a chapter, so hopefully that makes up for it a bit ;P.**

 **So, I'm not sure how realistic everything is, I've never gone through anything like it, I don't know anyone who has, but I know she wouldn't just wake up and everything's fine. Let me** **know what you thought of the waking up chapter! Is it what you thought it would be?**

 **Thank-you so much to TinySlippers, lun27, and sshanholtzer44 for your reviews! You review pretty much every chapter and it means so much to me that you always take the time to leave me your comments.**

 **I am in the last stretch of my semester at Uni and have a whole lot to get done in the next couple weeks, but I will try my absolute best to get the next couple chapters up on time!**

 **I hope you guys have an awesome rest of your week!**


	14. Go

Chapter 14 – Go

I wake.

The pain has faded to a dull, pounding ache throughout my body.

"Hey." Ron is sitting beside me. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm okay," I reply.

"Good."

"Where's Harry?" I ask, not quite remembering.

"He went back to the ministry, to work on finding Malfoy," he tells me with a bit of an edge to his voice.

"He is," I say, relieved that someone is at least trying.

"Hermione, what happened? We know some of it from the clues you left behind." He glances down at the words. And I know that sign as a guilty soul. Why? "But with Malfoy?" He looks back to me, at a loss.

I take a steadying breath.

"He sent me the package," I explain. "It included a code which he thought I could discover the meaning of." I speak slowly, choosing my words carefully. Ron has a habit of thinking the worst, especially of Draco.

"It was the location of the escaped Death Eaters, the group we've been hunting for the last, almost three years now. He'd been doing the same, but no one would believe him." I continue. "And he found something. This code, this location. And I knew, the moment I decoded it, that it wasn't something that I was supposed to know and that I was in danger."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Ron asks. "We could have protected you. But you didn't come to us."

"I couldn't do it by owl, too easily intercepted. Not by muggle phone because it could be overheard. I had to bring it myself," I tell him. "I knew that I would be vulnerable once I stepped outside, so I hid clues around the flat, just in case." I shake my head. "I know, I didn't make them all that clear, but I had to make sure they wouldn't think to take them if they searched my flat." I pause, take a breath. "They got Draco before they got me. They must have figured out that he knew and that he sent me something and put it together that I must know as well."

"So it's his fault," Ron adds.

Of course, he would come to that conclusion.

"No. Ron, you're missing the point," I say.

The room.

The pain.

Draco.

Once again in my mind.

"He wanted to change. He didn't want anyone else to be hurt. He didn't want the Death Eaters to gather strength. And he did what he had to, to get someone, anyone, to take him seriously." I close my eyes, only for a second, and see the scene. "When we were down there, I guess it was a small basement type room, they wanted information that I didn't have. He saved my life. When Bellatrix got too angry to control herself any longer." I pause. "I would have lost my mind if Draco hadn't taken it on himself."

"You expect me to believe that, one, Bellatrix Lestrange is back from the dead, and two, that Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, took a cruciatus curse for you?" Ron looks at me skeptically, brows raised.

"Yes. And I know, it's hard to believe, but it's true," I tell him. "And there's more. Now, this is a big one," I warn.

"Alright?" Ron seems unsure.

"They're trying to bring Voldemort back and they know how, and that they can actually accomplish it."

"You've got to be kidding me," he whispers.

"This is another reason why we have to get to Draco. They're going to kill him as part of this spell," I say.

"Why?"

"Because he's the betrayer," I clarify. "And they need the blood of a betrayer to complete the spell. If you find him, and save him, it will at least set them back."

"This is completely mad," Ron says. I'm not sure if he believes me.

"I know," I admit. "I know it sounds mad, but please; I haven't gone insane, I'm still Hermione."

Its now that I realize that I never told this to Harry.

I groan.

I sent him to put together a puzzle with only half the pieces. And they aren't even the ones that fit together.

"I need to speak with Harry," I say.

"You sent him back to the ministry to search for Malfoy," Ron reminds me.

"I know, but I was pretty out of it, and he doesn't know the things he needs to," I explain.

"Fine, I'll send an owl," he gives in.

"No. Ron, this is too important. You need to go get him."

"No, Hermione. I'm not leaving. You need protection," he insists.

And I probably do.

I know too much.

They most likely have people searching for me.

St. Mungo's.

I've been here so long; they probably already know.

They've probably been waiting.

But there are so many people around here, it won't be a witness free grab.

And others know now too.

"I'm not leaving you alone," Ron argues. "Not after everything that's happened." He pauses. "Not after we thought …"

And there's that guilt again.

I want to know why.

But not right now.

Right now, there is only one goal.

"I'll be fine," I promise. "Just…don't dilly dally."

"I really don't like this," he worries.

"I'll be alright," I assure him.

As long as he hurries.

I'm in a hospital.

I'm safe.

Nothing is going to happen.

But as I watch Ron, hesitantly leave, I get a twinge of doubt.

 _Draco. Where are you?_

* * *

 **Author's** **Note:**

 **Hello everyone! Thanks for being here, for dropping by, for continuing to read my story. Here, it takes on a different aspect of mystery. Why is Ron feeling guilty? Why does he blame Harry? Let me know what you thought of the chapter and what's to come!**

 **Thank-you to those three of you who reviewed the last chapter, I appreciate you so much :)**

 **Also, I have most of the flashback chapter written, yay! It's kind of a break from the plot but hopefully it will give you guys a better idea of why things are happening. I'll be posting that (fingers crossed) next week. I know some of you didn't like flashback chapters, but I can't think of a better way, so we're just going t dive into the past a bit.**

 **Stay tuned!**

 **I hope you have a great week!**


	15. Beginning

**A/N: Hey guys, thanks for stopping by! Just wanted to remind you up here that this is the flashback chapter, this is not happening in the present time of the story. I also wanted to warn you that this is a giant one, so I hope you like it and that you can make it to the end.**

* * *

Chapter 15 - Beginning

 _Two and a half months earlier…_

It's dark as I make my way from my flat to the apparation point.

Should I have waited?

No.

I have to get to Harry.

This is big.

It's so much bigger than I thought.

We've been chasing them for years, and now, we know where they are.

Well, I do.

And that's why I have to get to the ministry.

So that others know too.

Because I received a package from an unknown sender and like an idiot, thought I could handle on my own what I found inside.

I opened it.

And inside was a code.

It took me a while and I wasn't even sure if it would turn out to be anything useful. Harry and Ron were busy; I didn't want to bother them with something that could have turned out to be nothing.

But it wasn't nothing.

And now, I have to reach the apparation point and get this location to Harry.

Someone else needs to know.

This is big.

As I near my destination…

I feel it.

I'm being watched.

I take a breath and move a bit faster.

Maybe I am simply being paranoid.

Who could possibly know that I figured out the code I was sent?

But one thing is for certain.

I am not supposed to know this.

As I pass by a streetlight, I see a shadow flash behind me.

My breath catches and in one fluid motion, I whip my wand from my pocket and face my potential attacker.

No one is there.

Puzzled and still tensed for action, I slowly turn back to my route.

There is a flash, and in an instant, my body is frozen.

Maybe I should have waited.

Three masks.

Three terrifying Death Eater masks mark the beginning what I know is coming.

I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to fight.

But I am frozen.

And I'm horrified of what I know I am about to experience.

As I am taken to my horrible fate, my only hope is that Harry and Ron can pull themselves together, and figure out where I am.

* * *

Darkness.

Fear.

I'm at their mercy.

And they don't have any.

The small fraction of light from underneath the door at the top of the stairs creates an eerie dimness.

As my eyes adjust to the strange dark, I realize that someone else is here.

A figure is hunched in the corner of the room.

I take a breath to steady my voice.

"Hello?" The breath didn't do much. From the thundering of my heart, to my shaking, adrenaline filled limbs, my quiet sound is trembling. I swallow. "Who's there?"

"Granger?" He looks up. "Damn it!"

Malfoy?

My mind is turning.

They're trying to trick me.

I know their games and won't fall for it.

I will not let him know how frightened I am.

He cannot have that satisfaction.

"I know why you're here." It's a bit shaky still, but better than before. "It won't work."

"And why might that be?" he asks.

There's something odd about the tone of his voice. It's cocky, but somewhat…defeated.

"Which part?"  
"Why do you think I'm down here?"

I clear my throat. "You want to build my trust so you can make me slip information. And I won't do it."

"That would have been quite smart, wouldn't it?" he seems to be considering the thought. "But that's not what's happening."

"No?"

I can feel my fear beginning to fade, if only a bit.

It's Draco Malfoy.

I can handle him.

He's a bully, a snake, but not nearly as dangerous as some of the others.

"You have no idea what you've gotten into." And with the cryptic words, comes a flash of doubt.

* * *

It isn't just Malfoy.

I sit, resting my aching head against the cool wall.

A faceless Death Eater was down here.

And they brought with them the full force of the painful reality I'm facing.

Malfoy sat there.

He did nothing.

If he isn't here to pry information from me through trust, maybe, he is simply added torture.

Because he watched.

And he did nothing.

That cockroach.

That snake.

The courts were wrong about him.

Somehow he is in this.

And it will keep my mind off the pain if I focus on how.

* * *

It's happened many times now.

A Death Eater comes in, face covered with one of those masks.

They ask me questions of what I know, of how I know, of who I've told.

And Malfoy still does nothing.

I sit alone on the opposite side of the room, hugging myself in a vain attempt to stop the spasms and twitching of my muscles that have begun to occur after such frequent use of the cruciatus.

I feel a hot tear run down my face.

No.

He can't know how much I'm hurting.

He can't know that my dreams of Harry and Ron uncovering my clues have become nightmares that they just moved on.

But I can't seem to stop the tears.

And soon, I am trying to stifle my sobs.

"Granger."

I don't want to talk to him.

"Granger," he says again. "Say something."

I don't know what he's looking for.

But he doesn't sound like he wants to hurt me. He almost sounds concerned.

That's impossible.

I'm going insane.

Because all he could ever be is cruel.

* * *

Maybe I was wrong about Malfoy.

This time, it was him who was tortured.

And I watched.

I didn't stop it.

I was too afraid that they would turn it back onto me.

And I'm disgusted with myself.

The Death Eater seemed to enjoy it far too much for Malfoy to be a pawn of theirs.

So now, I'm confused.

I don't understand why he's here.

But he remains silent.

And so do I.

* * *

"I'm not so terrible you know," he suddenly tells me.

"What?"

"I know you think I'm evil, that I don't belong outside of Azkaban, that I deserve all this."

I don't know what I believe.

He's a bully.

I guess I haven't really spoken to him in a few years.

But he was a bully and he can't have changed that much.

"What makes you think that?" I counter.

"Because most times, people in these kinds of situations tend to come together, at least for something other than what's being done to them," he explains. "You've barely said a word."

I don't know what to say to that.

"You don't know me," he finishes.

"I know who you _were_ ," I tell him and cringe at the harshness.

Malfoy is silent for a moment.

"I'm not proud of that," he admits. "It's not who I am now. At least, I'm trying to be different."

Trying is different from succeeding.

I've always been one to support the ability for change.

But he's Malfoy.

And I don't know if he's capable of doing anything for the sake of others. He's always been one to look out primarily for himself.

I just don't know if I believe it.

"Why are you here then?" I ask.

"Do you not remember that I defected? I betrayed them. Why else would I be here?"

I shrug before realizing he may not be able to see such a small movement in the dark.

"Just thought you should know, you're not here alone," he tells me.

Though the tone of his voice says he's not expecting anything to really change.

* * *

I'm in agony.

My body is on fire and the curse is long gone.

Every muscle is contracting and releasing by its own volition.

And I have no hope that it will stop.

Not this time.

Not when it seems to get worse with every passing minute.

I'm hoarsely crying and writhing and without an end in sight.

There is no curse to be lifted.

I feel him come beside me.

I feel his arms come around my body, pulling me to him, and holding me tight.

Why would he do this? Why would he even touch me when I am dirty to him?

But for a moment, I don't care.

Because with his tight embrace, the pain begins to ease.

Gradually, my muscles relax and my cries become whimpers.

And I pull away from him before he can return to his usual self.

Shaking, I crawl to my side.

I'm embarrassed that he saw me that way, that he had to be the one to help me.

"Granger." His voice is soft. "Are you alright?"

"What do you think?" I snap. Closing my eyes, I take a breath. "I'm sorry. You helped me."

"It was a stupid question."

Yes, yes it was.

I'm so far from being alright.

But I am a lot better off than I was a few minutes ago.

"How did you know to do that?" I ask timidly.

"It gets like that - when it's a particularly strong curse."

I still don't understand.

"My mother did it for me when it happened. It always worked."

I turn to face him.

He's experienced this.

Many times.

I wonder how old he was when it first happened.

"Malfoy, I – "

"Can you not call me that?" he interrupts. "Malfoy." He says the name with disgust. "Having that name has made my life hell."

I never really thought about what he has been going through all this time.

"Draco then," I say.

* * *

We talk now.

And it helps somewhat.

It's distracting.

I know what he was saying about people coming together, if only for conversation.

I'm still not completely sure about him.

He may have been going through a lot, but he did some terrible things.

But it's distracting.

So we talk.

And our voices are becoming rather raspy from all its strained use.

But that's just because of our current situation.

"You still don't trust me," he points out after asking a question about my life over the past few years. "I understand."

I sigh. "You hurt me. A lot. Over and over. Even when I knew it was coming, it still hurt."

"I know." He pauses. "And I want to be better."

"Why did you? Did you really believe those things?" I ask. "Do you believe them now?"  
"I didn't believe anything for myself. I was a kid. I wanted to make my father proud. It wasn't until I was already knee deep in it all, with the dark mark hanging over my head, that I realized what made my father proud made me ashamed."

His words hang in the air.

It's not an excuse for what he did.

But it does make some sense.

"I tried so hard. He just wasn't satisfied with anything I did. You were beating me in classes and he really didn't like that. And I know it doesn't change anything now, but I want to explain," he starts. "I was constantly being told that if someone so weak and inferior was beating me in classes, I was even lower. I was nothing. Putting you down made me feel that little bit better and it was the one thing my father was proud of me for, as sick as that is."

Silence.

"That probably just makes it worse, doesn't it," he adds.

I consider it.

"You didn't answer my last question," I point out.

He takes a deep breath.

"No. I don't think I could possibly still think that you're somehow worth less as a person," he says. "That's pretty much what they were saying. Look at where most of them are now." He pauses. "And who was the one to help put them there."

It is rather ironic.

Maybe poetic.

For some reason, I'm glad that he doesn't have those views.

I shouldn't care.

I could never be friends with someone who acted the way he did, made the choices he did, even under the circumstances he was facing.

* * *

She's dead-

She was killed-

She's supposed to be dead.

My mind is spinning, body aching.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

I'm going crazy.

I've replaced the mask with the face of that demon.

It's not real.

It can't be.

I'm seeing things that aren't true.

She isn't alive.

She can't be.

But if she is…

I'm in more trouble than I thought.

She's not.

Can't be.

"Granger." Draco calls to me.

But I saw her.

I saw her face.

"Granger." He is right in front of me, but I can't focus on his face.

I'm going insane.

This is it.

And he holds my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him.

"Tell me she didn't go too far," he says softly.

She.

He said she.

He saw her too.

"She's alive?" I ask in a small and choked voice.

"Yes," he tells me. "They must have figured it out somehow."

"But I don't understand…"

"Neither do I."

Terror.

Utter terror.

Bellatrix Lestrange is somehow alive.

And I have no escape.

There was no mask.

I saw her face.

 _We_ saw her face.

We know she's alive.

It hits me that we aren't going to make it out of here.

There is no escaping.

They're going to kill us.

It's just a matter of when.

My heart pounds, body trembles, and he pulls me against him once again, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tight.

I still don't understand why he would do something like that.

Why would he care that I'm afraid?

But I'm glad that I'm not alone.

And having him hold me, even if he is the same boy who made my life miserable, brings me that little bit of comfort.

* * *

I have no idea how long I've been here.

I tried to keep track of when that small bit of light under the door went out, but it's difficult to tell.

It feels like it's been forever.

And I wonder if Harry and Ron have found my clues.

Maybe they've given up.

Maybe they've stopped looking with the assumption that I've already been killed.

But I'm not dead.

Not yet.

I am losing hope.

I'm losing hope of ever seeing them again, losing hope of ever going home.

And I know that's dangerous.

But I can't help it.

They're going to kill us and I have no idea if my friends even found my clues.

It was when it happened to Draco.

After a particularly strong round of the curse, that enduring pain happened to him.

And I held him in my arms, as tightly as I could with my weakened limbs.

I realized that this is our reality.

This is the only future we can foresee.

And it's bleak.

Hope is lost luxury.

Survival is becoming tedious.

And for a moment, I wish I had some way of giving up.

* * *

I care about him.

It's a strange thought.

Strange and somewhat frightening.

When he is tortured, it hurts me.

I cry, I scream.

I don't know how to stop it.

I may have lost hope for myself.

I may have accepted the fact that what I'm facing is not likely to end anytime soon and when it does, it will be with my death.

But I want it to stop for him.

I know why I'm here.

He's just their plaything; someone to hurt when they feel like it.

I'm reserved for questioning.

He's tortured for fun, simply because he did the right thing for once.

And I care about him.

* * *

"They're going to find you, you know," he tells me.

He's holding me once again and I lay my cheek on his chest.

I remain silent.

"They're stubborn people. They'll keep looking for you until you're found," he says.

Unless they can't figure it out.

Unless my clues were too vague and well hidden.

"I know you've given up," Draco continues. "I've seen it many times. It's only one step before they either break or die. And you're too strong for that."

"What if I'm not," I whisper.

"You're Hermione Granger, of course you are."

He says nice words but they don't mean much.

Not when I'm trapped.

Not when I don't know if I'll ever see the light of day again.

I look up at him.

And suddenly, without warning, he kisses me.

It's fast and clearly impulsive.

"I'm sorry," he says, pushing me away, as if I were to be disgusted by his action.

And I should be.

But it was amazing.

For one fleeting moment, I felt something other than pain.

So I kiss him again.

And the pain of the world melts away.

I hold him close and a feeling I have not had in a long time floods through me.

His arms slowly come around me and there is a hope.

For a moment, surrounded by dark, fear, and pain, there is pleasure, peace.

And when I slowly pull away, I am smiling for the first time in a very long while.

Because there is hope.

"We won't break," I say quietly. "We won't let them win. We have something that they would never expect."

* * *

"Would you distract me?" I ask, eyes clenched against the pain pulsing through my limbs as I lay folded in his embrace. "Talk to me. Tell me about something. Anything."

"What do you want me to say?"  
I don't know. And I can't think.

I need to hear something nice.

He's told me about his father, but the way I remember Narcissa, she seemed different. And the way he said she held him... she seemed like a good mother.

I could use a good mother story.

"Would you tell me about her?" I say absently.

"About who?"

I never said.

"Your mother?" I ask.

He's quiet for a moment.

"She always wanted the best for me, always wanted me to be happy," he starts. "It was what my father never really cared about, but she did. She was always so formal, so traditional when she went out. When she was really with anyone but alone with me. Then she would let that slip. She would show me all these special tricks with her magic and brought me toys to play with when my father said they were too childish."

I can see it.

Little Draco running around the room, running circles around his laughing mother.

Carefree.

Young, innocent.

"She's the one who kept me at Hogwarts. My father wanted to send me away to Durmstrang, but she wouldn't have any of it. It's the one time I really ever saw her stand up to the man. When he was trying to send me away. She sent me treats from home all the time when I was at Hogwarts."

Did I know that?

It was so long ago.

I can picture it though.

A package arrives, but he doesn't open it until he is alone, when he doesn't have to hide the delight that comes from seeing the sweets inside.

I find myself smiling.

It's working.

Then it strikes me that he is talking about how she was, not how she is.

"What happened?" I ask.

Once again, he pauses in thought.

It's a silence that cries solemnness.

"The war broke her. I broke her." The words are a stark contrast to the stories of his childhood. "You don't want to hear about that now."

And he kisses my cheek.

I do want to hear about it.

But maybe not now.

Now, I like the image of a glowing, happy Draco with his mother.

Now, that takes my mind off the pain.

* * *

"What about your family?"

They've left us alone today.

At least, I think it's been a day.

It's really quite hard to tell.

"My parents were wonderful. Always supportive, always loving and generous and kind." I don't want to say more for fear of breaking down. The thoughts of them crush my fragile heart.

"Tell me what you didn't tell me last time I asked. About your mother." I'm changing the topic and he knows it.

But he doesn't ask.

Does he know?

"I told you the war broke her," he reminds me.

"I want to know more." Am I pushing too far? Does he not want me to know more?

He clears his throat.

"She never wanted the life of a Death Eater for me. She hated the war and what it was doing to people on both sides. I think she began to resent my father for dragging me down that path. That night," he pauses. "That night when I got the mark. She cried for me, sobbed for my loss. Because she knew what was coming for me and how my life would be changed."

I can't imagine.

The child who she had raised and loved lead down that path by his own father.

"She doesn't say much anymore," he continues. "She's empty, staring out the window with her wand gripped in her hand, waiting for them to come for me."

"Waiting for who to come?"

"Everyone," he says. "I'll never be the 'good guy', but I betrayed the bad. She was right about how that one decision would change the course of my life." He pauses again. "I hate what I did to her. Maybe, once I'm gone, she at least won't have anything left to worry about."

I realize that he never changed.

Not really.

He's still the same bully he ever was.

But now, the one who is falling victim to his taunts is himself.

And I can tell the difference it has caused in him.

I hear the defeat in his voice, the guilt in his touch.

"What did you do right?" I suddenly ask.

"What?" he seems almost startled by the question.

"You keep telling me all about what you did wrong. But what's something you did right?"

He stays silent.

"You don't have to tell me now," I say. "Just think about it. And allow yourself to feel good about it for a moment."

It's quite obvious he has been tearing himself down for years.

And we haven't helped.

But now, I want to be the one to build him back up.

* * *

Pleasure.

It is such a strange thought when your every nerve is alight with pain.

But I focus on him.

I think about his arms coming around me.

I narrow my mind on the feeling of his lips on mine.

And when the shrieks leave my tattered throat, I think of only what's to come.

After she leaves.

I won't lose myself if I hold onto him.

I won't lose myself if I keep my mind set on his embrace.

I focus on the pleasure after the pain.

And I won't break.

* * *

Just as he promised when we heard her footsteps nearing the door, he holds me.

He's the only thing that keeps me going.

Because I don't know the answer to what she's asking.

But with him, I won't lose hope.

I won't break.

I won't drown in myself.

Because he kisses me, and for a moment, the pain fades.

It fades to a dull hum.

And I barely notice it's pull towards reality.

Because he kisses me.

Because he holds me.

Because he finds his own release with me.

And together, we can be strong.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **You made it to the end! Thanks for reading! It is such a crazy time right now with four final exams and a presentation next week. But since this was already written, I decided it wouldn't take long to post it. I considered breaking it up into two chapters, but I do want to get back to the plot quickly.**

 **Thank-you so much to those who reviewed, I appreciate it so, so much. Let me know what you thought of the flashback chapter. It's quite dark, and bounces around a lot, but I would love to hear your thoughts.**

 **Thanks again for reading, and I hope you have a great week.**


	16. Where

**A/N: Just wanted to remind you up here once again, the last chapter was in the past, this one comes back to the present, though some time has passed** **since we left Hermione at the hospital . . .**

* * *

Chapter 16 – Where

I sit on a porch.

The rain is pounding down on the canopy roof above my head.

And I stare with frustration at the wand Harry gave me, because I feel like I can't do anything. The wand itself is fine and I can perform great spells, well, great for a new wand. But it isn't doing anything for the situation and that's the frustrating part.

I'm awake and able, but at the same time so far away from finding him.

It's been two weeks since I saw Draco in my mind. Since I was in that coma.

It's been nearly that long since the last time I had a good night sleep.

Harry and Ron had me moved to a safe house as soon as I was able to leave St. Mungo's.

Nothing happened.

Ron left, and I was fine.

But Harry brought everything from the ministry.

He said it wasn't safe.

Nowhere was safe.

Not until we knew the extent of this.

He's remembering last time; last time when the Death Eaters gained control of the ministry and there was no one left to trust.

It could be happening again.

Because it has been too long.

But I'm glad he's taking me seriously.

Ron, I'm not so sure about.

I don't know what's going on with him.

I do know, that they're afraid for my safety.

I'm afraid for Draco who has been alone now, forty-one days.

And they've done, who knows what to him during that time.

I've been counting.

And every day that passes breaks my heart a little more.

But they need a full moon and that's not until March ninth.

At the moment, it's only the third of March, so the panic hasn't set in yet.

It hasn't left me.

I want to fight.

I want to find those insane, evil, saddists, and kill each and every one of them for what they did to us. They're trying to bring back the man who stole every bit of light, hope, any sense of safety, from the entire wizarding Britain. They want to bring him back to finish what he started.

Unless they're dead, it'll never end.

Bellatrix has already broken out of Azkaban once, and that was when there were dementors guarding the prison.

This won't stop.

And I hate that I'm thinking like this.

I was naïve, innocent.

Then the war.

Then life.

Then this.

And I don't know what to think anymore.

I just want it to be over.

And I want Draco back.

I want him safe.

So, I sit, shivering with cold, and stare at the night sky, wondering where he might be.

He's still alive.

They need him to die at the proper moment.

But it's coming.

And I know, I need my strength. I need to rest and recover.

Because I want to fight.

I need to fight.

I need to be there to watch _her_ fall.

And I need to be there to tell Draco he's alright, that I didn't break my promise, that I made sure he was found.

Do we know where he is?

No.

Do we know where their plan will unfold?

We're narrowing it down.

And I see their point, we need to keep our heads, keep our strength.

But that doesn't mean I like it.

We know they have all the parts. We know they need a body of water and a full moon. We know that body of water needs to be isolated, needs to be difficult to find.

But it's wizards we're chasing.

They could literally go anywhere.

I hear the boys as they march into the front room on the other side of the door behind me.

They're fighting.

Ron is constantly angry.

He's angry at Harry, but it's more personal than that.

I think he blames him for what happened to me.

And I hate it.

I hate that Harry is having this weight constantly thrown upon him.

It wasn't his fault.

I don't know the whole story.

They won't talk about it.

Not about what happened to them while I was captured.

But I know that Harry is not to blame.

 _"_ _Who are you to say! How dare you want to get involved now and criticize me for being wary!"_

I can hear Ron yelling.

I try to block it out.

But I can't when it's everywhere.

I don't know what happened.

I do know Harry doesn't deserve this.

 _"_ _You're the one who's making the same mistakes! At least I learned from mine!"_ Harry shouts back.

And silence.

There was something of a finality in the statement.

I don't understand.

But the silence is thick, heartbreaking.

And I wait for it to be broken.

It isn't.

How has everything gotten so much harder?

I'm barely keeping it together myself.

I can't get between them in this.

It might just shatter every bit of composure I have left.

I just wish they'd stop for good.

I take a deep breath of the night air, taking in the soothing sound of the rain.

Time passes, and I know it's getting late.

But I can't find it within myself to move.

I like the outdoors.

It might seem a bit mad, but I feel closer to Draco when I'm out here.

I don't know where he is but he's somewhere under this same sky.

The door opens behind me, and the unexpected creek makes my heart leap into my chest, my head whipping around to face the sound.

I suck in a deep breath to calm my racing pulse.

It's Harry. Only Harry.

"Hermione," he calls, though his voice sounds heavy. "Come inside. It's cold, and dark."

"I know," I say softly, hiding the sudden panic deep within me.

I don't move and Harry comes out to sit beside me.

"You're thinking about him," he points out.

I sigh. "Yes."

"There's something you aren't telling us," he accuses.

"You know everything you need to, everything that's relevant to this case," I tell him.

Being judged over what I feel for Draco is not what I need right now.

"But we're best friends, Hermione. We've been through so much. I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me," he says.

"Maybe there are some things that just don't need to be said," I counter.

"Ron and I," he pauses, "we're doing our best. We know a lot happened to you that we can't begin to understand. We don't know who we can trust to help us, and this is the biggest thing we've faced since the war. And it's been hard for us to see eye to eye right now. But I just got you back and . . . I want to know."

He takes a breath. "This thing with Malfoy. There's more to it than preventing Voldemort's return. Isn't there?"

I close my eyes.

"Yes," I finally say. "Look, I don't want to argue with you. We just need to find him."

"Alright," he tells me. "All I'll say is be careful. Trauma can change things."

It's not what I thought he would say, but this is Harry.

I know he's worried about me and I know he still hates Draco.

But he trusts me, he trusts my judgement, and is sticking by my side in this.

"Ron might be a bit touchier though," he adds.

"Oh, I know. It's why I never told you before," I admit.

"Let's go in, have a good night's rest. Tomorrow, we'll work on finding him. As long as you want," he says.

"Alright." I stand.

Though, I know a good night's rest is not something that will reach me any time soon.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello my amazing readers! I hope everything is going well for you guys. It's a bit crazy with final exams, but I thought I'd post anyways and have a** **little study break while editing.**

 **Thank-you so much for all the reviews this past week, it was so great to hear that people are enjoying my story.**

 **Harry and Ron don't seem to be getting along. What could have happened to make them fight? And what is up with Ron? Let me know your thoughts on what is happening.**

 **I know, the timing is a bit off. And I also know it is a story which is actually set in the past, so it doesn't even matter. But it is something that bugs me. I had this written though a long time ago, and I didn't exactly calculate out when I was going to post this chapter. Most of you probably don't care lol.**

 **I hope you guys have a wonderful week, and I'll be posting again next Sunday!**


	17. Dark

Chapter 17 - Dark

Nightmares.

I relive the pain, the hopelessness, the fear, the basement, seemingly every time I close my eyes; every time I fall asleep.

Harry and Ron try; I know they do. But they don't understand.

They can't.

And I can't deal with this now.

I need to focus on finding Draco, on preventing the terrors of what might occur.

Wind.

It beats against the glass of the house.

And every time, I jump.

A bit over-reactive?

Yes. Very much so.

But there is something about the howling that brings me back to those days in the dark.

I block it out; push it as far beyond my mind as I possibly can.

It isn't far enough.

I shove myself off the bed.

I need to get out of here.

The small room seems to be shrinking, being transformed by my mind into the dreaded basement.

Electricity.

Wonderful, yet utterly terrifying.

Why did I insist on a muggle safe-house?

Because the lack of floo connection, the lack of knowledge Death Eaters have of these areas.

But right now, I am greatly regretting that decision.

I have a light that is always on and the thought of it going out sends a shock of fear coursing through me.

A flash out the window draws my attention, giving me a brief moment to prepare myself for the harsh booming of the inevitable thunder.

My body tenses as it arrives.

I move towards the door.

Maybe out in the open will be better.

I'll have some peace that I am not back in that terrible place.

I'll have some peace with the possibility of greater means of escape.

But as I reach my hand towards the door handle, my staggering safety collapses.

The power is gone.

The light goes dark.

The wind screams against the window.

And I am tossed back into the memory.

I am back in the basement.

I hear his screams.

Dark.

The occasional flashes of a curse.

An utterly excruciating curse.

The cackling laughter of a sadistic beast.

And his screaming.

Draco.

And my pain.

Light.

" _Hermione?_ _"_

Someone is calling my name.

The sound is comforting.

But the scene around me holds control.

" _Hermione!_ _"_

I recognize the voice.

" _You_ _'_ _re safe. You_ _'_ _re in the safe-house. The power just went out is all. You_ _'_ _re alright._ _"_

His words are soothing.

It seems to take forever, agonizing minutes, before my surroundings become recognizable.

I'm on the floor, knees pulled up to my chest, back against the wall.

And I'm sobbing.

The fear is still clinging to me with every breath.

I jump when Harry's arms come around me, but slowly give up fighting and cry against him.

He doesn't say anything more.

Probably doesn't know what he's supposed to.

But that's okay.

I'm just glad I'm not alone.

Draco.

My flashback is his reality.

I can't focus on my fear, on my pain, on my brokenness.

That can be dealt with later.

Later.

When this is all over and Draco is safe.

We can deal with this together, then.

But now, I have to focus on doing that.

I take a deep breath, pulling myself away from Harry and wiping my eyes with the back of my sleeve.

I take another long inhale, narrowing my mind on the way if fills my lungs.

I'm safe.

For now.

But Draco isn't.

The little light in the corner turns back on and Harry reaches up beside him to light the big one.

"I'm sorry,"I whisper.

It's the middle of the night and I probably woke him up with screaming.

"Don't. You don't have to apologize,"he tells me. "You have absolutely nothing to apologize for." He says the last statement as a mutter, almost to himself.

There's a glimpse of that something I'm missing.

Something that happened.

Something that he feels guilty for.

Him and Ron both.

Ron.

He's not here.

He didn't come.

I want to ask about Ron, but decide against it.

I don't know what's going on with him.

He used to love me.

I used to love him.

But we've always still been friends.

And now, in my most terrifying hour, he isn't here.

I am so thankful for Harry, but I can't stop the stabbing sensation from piercing my heart at the thought of Ron.

Having probably been woken up as well, he didn't come.

He didn't see if I was alright, he didn't try to help me.

I guess I have some idea of why he's acting this way around me, at least it makes sense.

He's avoiding me.

Just like he does with all his problems.

And that's what I am.

A problem.

I am the one he thought he lost and who has now been found, but will never be the same.

And he doesn't know how to act around me anymore.

I don't think he believes what I tell him about everything that happened.

He doesn't want to hear it.

And I miss him.

Doesn't he realize that?  
I need support. I need friends. I need him.

But he isn't here.

Harry is.

I smile at him.

"I'm alright,"I tell him, though, my muscles are still clenched, body trembling.

The light is good.

I'll just keep it on.

"Are you sure?"he asks quietly.

I nod.

I can't say I am, because I'm not.

Sure.

I'm not sure I'm okay.

But he doesn't need to know that.

I don't want him to be more worried than he needs to be.

And whatever they feel so guilty about, I don't want to add to it.

So I nod and he slowly gets up from the floor beside me.

I want to tell him not to go, that I don't want to be alone right now.

But I don't.

I thank him once more and he tells me to call if I need anything and leaves.

I wrap my arms across my body, hugging myself on the floor.

He tries, but he can't understand.

And I don't want him to focus on me.

I don't want him to focus on whatever else is going on.

We have to find Draco.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello my wonderful readers. I hope you're doing well. I finished finals and am home for the summer! Yay! I can finally take a little break and relax a bit. Also means, hopefully I'll reply sooner to reviews ;)**

 **This chapter wasn't originally a part of the story, but I thought it was necessary to show what she is still going through, even now, having been rescued. Things can't just go back to normal after something like that. But I also wanted to show her strength, of how she pushes through and focuses on finding Draco, even with everything she is feeling and facing. Let me know what you thought! Did the message find its way across?**

 **Thank-you so much to all those who reviewed the last chapter. As always, it means so much that some of you are kind enough to leave your thoughts and opinions.**

 **I wish you an awesome week, and an amazing beginning of a new month come Tuesday.**


	18. Plan

Chapter 18 –Plan

Maps.

Laid over the large kitchen table of the safe house.

And we have poured over them, narrowing down the location, crossing out unsuitable places.

Why do I feel like I'm missing something?

It's right in front of me, I know it.

What are we looking at here?

And it clicks.

Beaches.

Long, isolated patches of sandy beaches.

An image flashes through my mind.

The beach.

The one Draco and I spent so much time at in my mind.

I didn't know why we were there.

I couldn't understand any significance it might have.

But my mind was trying to tell me something.

There.

It's there.

And I know that, whatever beach was in my head, is where Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange will be attempting to bring Voldemort back.

Tomorrow.

We're running out of time.

"Pictures," I whisper.

"What?" Ron asks, still staring at the writing covered map.

"Pictures. I need pictures of the last few possible locations,"I say.

"Why? Do you know something?"Harry questions.

"Maybe," I state.

"What, Hermione, what do you know?" Harry inquires.

"It sounds insane, but I swear it's true," I warn them before I even begin. "When I was in the coma, I was somewhere else, well, in my mind. And Draco was there, and helping me to remember things, because I couldn't remember anything. And we spent a lot of time at this beach. I didn't know why, couldn't think of any significance, but I must have overheard something when I was being held. I think I'll recognize the beach."

Silence.

"That really does sound insane," Ron admits, making Harry elbow him in the ribs. "Ouch!"

Four locations.

That's all we have left.

But we don't have much time and I need them to believe me when I say I need to see pictures.

"Alright," Harry complies.

"Alright?" I clarify.

He nods. "I'll be right back."

And he's gone, and Ron is looking at me with disbelief, with pity.

I'm getting fed up with him. He thinks I've gone mad, that Draco was never there and I've been made to think all these crazy things. He doesn't believe me that Bellatrix is alive, I don't even know if he believes they are truly trying to bring Voldemort back, and that's been our real problem.

It does sound quite mad, but I thought at least my friends would believe me.

And we need him.

We need people to fight.

That's rather hard when you don't know who to trust.

We don't know how many they have.

They've been in hiding, gaining strength, since the war in 1998 and we don't know how far their influence spans.

And yes, they captured quite a few when they found me, so their forces are smaller and weakened, but that doesn't mean it's going to be an easy fight to win.

"Hermione," he starts. "We're playing a guessing game here."

"No, that's what I'm telling you," I say. "We're not. I think I know where they'll be." I pause. "When are you going to start believing me?"

"I do believe you," he insists.

He believes that I believe.

"I just, think it's a little far fetched is all. And you've been through a lot. I don't know how all that stuff works, but it can make you paranoid, believe things that aren't there." He catches himself. "And I'm not saying this isn't real, it very well might be, but I also think you need help."

"Yes, I need help, Ron," I say in frustration. "I need help finding Draco, putting an end to all this. Then I'll need help being me again. I know, I was there a long time. Over a month in fact. And the only thing that kept me sane, the only person who gave me any sort of comfort, is still there, facing the same things we faced together."

Ron's jaw tightens and I can see the pain in his face. He doesn't like to hear about how long it took them to piece together what I found out in less than a week. He can't handle hearing about what went on there.

And I can't think about it.

But it's always there.

I can't let myself focus on it. Not yet.

Once Draco is here, we can cry about it together.

But not now.

"So yes, I'll need help, but don't you dare tell me that the person who tortured me isn't alive unless you yourself have killed her since then," I finish.

Ron is silent.

* * *

"I've got them."

It's Harry, he's back.

He sets his bag on the chair and pulls out the pictures.

I have no idea where he managed to find a camera.

And on second thought, I may not want to.

Desperate times.

But once again, I am so thankful for his trusting, yet absolutely reckless nature.

Looking at the images, I see it.

"That," I say, pointing to the second picture he sets on the map. "Where's that?"

And I know.

That's where they'll be.

Because it's where we were.

The beach of my mind.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello everyone! I hope you had a great week! Mine was nice and relaxing after getting home from Uni :) Thanks for stopping by and reading.**

 **I had a few people comment that the plot needed to be moved forward a bit more, so I hope that this chapter did that. Leave me your thoughts and let me know! Will they get to Draco in time?**

 **Thank-you so much to those who reviewed, I really appreciated your praise and critiques. I try to take them to heart when preparing the next chapter.**

 **I hope you have a wonderful week!**


	19. Fight

Chapter 19 –Fight

It's dark.

But I'm ready.

Ready to end this.

I take a deep breath of the salty air, hearing the light crunching noise of shoes in sand.

It's the beach of my mind. The same, yet so different.

The water is much higher up on the shore, but that isn't the most significant change. Not to me.

Gone is the peace.

Gone is the comfort.

Very present is the darkness lurking, waiting.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Harry whispers.

"I'm sure," I reply, though I am not completely as certain as I have lead them to believe.

The thought of facing Bellatrix Lestrange once more sends panic running through my blood, fear.

But it doesn'tmatter.

I have to be ready.

There's no turning back now.

We see it; the fire, and know I was right.

This is the place.

Lying down flat in the sand, we watch the shadowy figures down the shore to see what we're up against.

We have no idea how many more Death Eaters are still out there, or how many they would trust enough to be a part of this final step.

Now, it seems there are six people, but I can't make out their faces.

One is kneeling, being guarded by two men.

Draco.

He's alive, but won't be for long.

They are gathered around something.

There's the fire, but in front of that, it seems like some sort of chest. And I assume it's where the components of this revival magic lie.

"We're outnumbered," Ron whispers.

"Could be worse, I guess. At least there's only five," I say quietly.

"We have to get closer. Catch them by surprise," Harry suggests.

"And how do you suppose we do that? There isn't a lot of cover," I point out.

"It's dark. Stay low to the ground, and fire as soon as they're in range," he tells us.

"This is bloody insane," Ron complains.

"We know Ron, now shut up," I whisper in frustration. I do not need his constant negativity when I am desperately trying to keep my own worries at bay.

"Alright, let's go." Harry leads our slow trek towards the small group.

Once we're close enough, he gives us the signal to stop.

The countdown begins, he lowers one finger for each second.

Three.

Breath.

My heart pounds against my ribcage.

Two.

Breath.

What the hell am I doing?

I shouldn't be here.

I can't do this.

But Draco.

And it's like before.

I think of the reward for enduring, for pushing through.

His arms.

The beating of his heart beneath my head as he holds me within the safety of his embrace.

This moment.

I just have to get through this moment.

One.

And we're up, our red _stupefy_ s bringing down two Death Eaters.

Draco.

Our eyes lock.

He's thin and bloody and bruised, one eye swollen shut, and even though his guards are no longer in the fight, he's too weak to stand.

Spells are flying around me, but all I can see is him.

Until I'm hit and flying backwards through the air, crashing down onto my back on the sand.

I struggle to breathe, the wind knocked from my lungs.

I turn, cough, suck in a desperate lungful of air, and push myself up to my knees, to my feet.

Harry and Ron are battling Rodolphus and the other Death Eater I don't recognize.

But Bellatrix.

Where is she?

I whip my head around to see her wand aimed from behind me.

" _Expelliarmus!_ _"_

But she easily deflects my spell, that evil grin plastered on her face.

"You're going to have to do a lot better than that," she cackles. _"_ _Avada ka-_

 _"_ _Protego!_ _"_

My shield holds, but I'm shaking.

Every time I've faced this woman, it has not ended well for me.

She terrifies me.

Not now.

I can't let her get to me now.

 _"_ _Confringo!_ _"_ My own curse surprises me as she leaps to the side, diving away from the sand that just exploded where she stood.

She just laughs.

"Now we're getting somewhere!"

I don't understand this woman.

She seems to be enjoying this.

 _"_ _Stupefy!_ _"_

She deflects it.

"Oh," Bellatrix shakes her head with mock disappointment, getting back to her feet. "We're going backwards. It's so much more fun when it's a challenge."

Blue light.

 _"_ _Protego!_ _"_

She's using wandless magic.

Two can play at that.

 _Stupefy, Reducto!_

Pain.

It's all I can feel.

And once again, I drop into sand and it feels like a thousand needles digging into my skin. My very bones are one fire!

Then it stops.

"Well, well, isn't this familiar," she grins.

She towers above me, looking down with pure delight.

And the pain is back.

I think I'm screaming.

But all I can see or feel is every nerve reacting.

Pain.

Mind numbing pain.

And once again I am left gasping for air, sand sticking to the tears on my cheeks.

"You think you and your little pathetic boyfriends can stop us?" she hisses.

I can't speak.

"You stupid girl! You can't prevent the inevitable. An army is coming. We've defied death," she explains, spinning her wand around her fingers. "And you might," she pauses a moment to think of the word, "distract, us tonight, but we'll just wait until the next time."

I grab my wand which had fallen out of my grasp beside me and aim it -

 _"_ _Expulso!_ _"_

And a fiery explosion lights the sand, sending Bellatrix flying through the air.

Every muscle seeming to contract by its own will, I struggle to stand.

But slowly, I make my way to her.

The tables have turned.

She looks up at me, and my wand aimed at her head, with wide eyes.

I know what I have to do.

My arm shakes. I steady it.

Can I really do it?

Do I have it in me?

The curse is on the tip of my tongue.

She has killed countless people

She tortured me.

She tortured Draco.

She tried to bring back Voldemort.

She deserves this.

But I hesitate.

She smiles.

"You can't do it, can you," she mocks. "Weak!"

I see her reach for her wand and know I have to act fast.

As her fingers touch the wood,

 _"_ _Avada Kadavra!_ _"_

A flash of green, and the woman is dead. Again.

My wand drops to my side, eyes wide, shocked.

I didn't do it.

I couldn't.

Turning, I see him.

Draco.

The wand in his hand, probably stolen from a fallen guard, is still raised and aiming at the dead Bellatrix Lestrange.

Her and I were so focused on each other, that we didn't see him limp towards us in the darkness.

"Draco," I call, and run to him as he collapses into the sand.

I kneel beside him and pull his thin and broken body into my arms.

The battle is over.

Harry has Rodolphus in a bind curse and the other is unconscious.

"You're going to be alright," I whisper to the man in my arms. "We found you."

"I couldn't let you do it," he tells me in a low, hoarse voice. "Tear your soul like that, over her."

"So you did it for me," I say softly.

He doesn't answer, so I just hold him, like he did for me all those nights in that basement.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello everyone! I decided to wait an extra day to post due to Mother's Day yesterday. I hope you had a great week!**

 **The fight scene! What did you think? I know this is probably terrible, but I actually have a lot of fun writing Bellatrix's character. She's got this whole evil, yet almost child-like and playful thing going on that is just really unique to write. I did want this chapter to be a little bit longer than it is, but oh well. I really love hearing your thoughts about it.**

 **Thanks to everyone who left me comments on the last chapter, it is so great to hear from you!**

 **Thank-you to all those who keep reading every week!**

 **I do have a few more chapters wrapping things up before I end this story, so check back next week for the update!**

 **Oh, one more thing, I have just started another fan fiction writing competition, so I'll be posting a new oneshot every couple weeks if your interested in checking those out!**

 **Thanks once again, and I hope you guys have an awesome week!**


	20. Reunion

Chapter 20 - Reunion

St. Mungo's.

Once again in the hospital, but this time, I'm not the one in the bed.

Draco.

I sit beside him, his hand in mine.

He's sleeping, seeming so calm and peaceful after the draught they gave him.

And I've been by his side since we left the beach.

We left the beach.

I take a deep breath and let that thought sink in.

The horrors the basement, the uncertainty of surviving to the next day, the feeling of being lost, forgotten, of waking up trapped inside my own mind.

We left the beach.

We left it all behind.

I just wish I could make myself believe it.

He's here. He's safe.

And after everything that's happened, it seems like a miracle.

The Death Eaters from the beach were arrested, and they apparently seemed pretty ready to talk about others still in hiding in exchange for a reduced Azkaban sentence.

It's over.

But things will never be the same.

After what happened to us, the world has changed. It's different.

And I can't quite explain it, this feeling, this fear, this loss.

"How's he doing?"

My head whips toward the sudden voice.

It's Harry.

"He'll be alright," I reply, hiding my jumpiness behind a hopefully sturdy voice.

He steps into the room and sits in the chair in the corner.

"How are you doing?"

I take another deep breath and think about that for a moment.

Am I alright?

"We'll see."

Harry's the one who doesn't seem to be okay. He's beating himself up over this.

I've seen it for a while now, that he blames himself for whatever reason.

"It's not your fault, you know," I tell him. "None of it. I knew what could happen when I left those clues, I knew how long it could take to find me. And you've done a lot of good. Saved me, Draco, stopped the return of Voldemort, and will be responsible for the capture of the remaining Death Eaters."

He just looks at me.

"It's not your fault. And, I don't know what Ron has been burdening you with, but I don't blame you for any of it," I finish.

There is an agonized silence that fills the space between us, and I can see it in the pain filled expression on his face that he doesn't believe me.

"I broke the rules," he starts to explain in a small, choked voice, his eyes now focused on the floor as to avoid my gaze. "You asked me if you could work on figuring out some sort of package outside the ministry, by yourself." He swallows. "It wasn't allowed."

"Listen to yourself Harry. _I_ asked. Me. I knew the risks. I asked to do it alone," I assure him.

"But I used my position to allow it. Everyone was busy and didn't have time to do it by the book. There should have been at least two people looking at it, it should have been locked in the ministry and its existence hidden. _I_ broke the rules Hermione. And you were taken because of it."

Now I know.

At least why Harry feels guilty.

Ron has been blaming him for everything.

"I don't care if you broke the rules. I still don't blame you. I knew the risks, I still asked. I'm one who initiated. Thought I could handle it on my own." I pause for a moment. "I'll admit, it wasn't a great decision on my part. There was a lot going on and I thought it could turn out to be absolutely nothing. But that bad decision was on _my_ part. I was smart enough to know I shouldn't have asked." I hate that I put Harry in this position. "It's done now, in the past. We just have to deal with it and move on with our lives. Please, just don't take this on yourself."

His eyes finally meet mine.

"Please," I say softly. "We don't need another victim in this. Yes, there were circumstances that lead to a terrible situation, but it's no one's fault except the ones who took me."

Freedom.

I see it as his features relax and I wonder why I never started this conversation earlier, when we were at that safe house.

"Okay," he nearly whispers.

"Okay?" I repeat.

Harry nods. "I think. . . Ron and I . . . we've been so caught up in how we contributed to what happened. I went over it again and again in my head, wishing I could go back. I think I forgot who the villain really was. I ended up catching the Death Eaters only to continue chasing myself down." He pauses. "We'll be okay, right?"

I give him a small smile.

"Things will be different. I don't know if it'll be a good thing or a bad thing, but we'll work through it. Always do," I tell him.

He glances at Draco.

"And you're sure about this, about him?"

I nod. "Yes."

"Alright," he says. And I am so thankful for him. "I can trust you." I am so thankful for his naïve spirit when it comes to his friends. He makes it clear that he doesn't trust Draco, but he trusts me, and that's enough for now.

Things are changing, have changed, and Draco is a part of that change. I think Harry understands that.

"Where's Ron?" I ask.

Harry sighs. "He's having a rough go right now."

"What do you mean?"

"You were right, and after everything you went through, he didn't fully believe you and he thinks he made everything worse. He didn't treat you like he should have," he explains.

It's so like Ron to avoid his problems, to stay away when he's feeling hurt and ashamed.

But we can fix this.

My perspective has been altered, my world turned on its head, and it will never be like it was, but this, I believe can be fixed.

Draco begins to stir.

"I'll leave you two alone," Harry says, standing to leave.

"Thanks," I reply, then turn my attention back to Draco.

Slowly he opens his eyes and looks at me.

Blank.

His expression is blank.

"Who are you?"

And my breath freezes, eyes wide.

He doesn't remember? He doesn't remember anything? He doesn't remember me?

My heart drops to my stomach leaving a gaping hole in my chest.

This can't be happening!

I need him to remember!

Then I see the smirk.

"Kidding. I'm kidding."

I let the breath out and my jaw drops.

"Oh. My. God. Draco Malfoy! That was mean! How could you do that?"

"Sorry. That was pretty bad, wasn't it," he admits.

I shake my head, astounded.

"It was there. I took it." He cringes thinking back on his words. "Really shouldn't have."

"No," I take a deep breath to steady myself, pressing a hand to my forehead. "I take it you're feeling fine."

"Oh, no. I feel like I've been ripped apart by my limbs then roughly stuck back together again," he tells me. "But I've been feeling that way for a while."

"It took us a while to find you," I say softly.

"But you did. And you were able to do everything I knew you could. The reason I sent _you_ that package. You did it," he says with a smile.

Yes, we did it, we found him, we stopped the Lestranges' scheme. But I can't help wondering what comes next. If his whole goal with me was to stop them and that goal has been fulfilled, where does that leave us?

"Yes," I whisper. "But what now?"

His smile drops.

"That's up to you."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

He glances down at our intertwined hands.

"You remember it? All of it?"

I still don't understand, but nod.

"You've been out for a while now. It all depends on what you want," he tells me. "When we were _there,_ we only had each other."

"What are you saying?"

"Once I'm better, if you want, I can leave. You have your friends now. I understand if you don't want someone like me around," he says.

"Don't want someone like you?"

"You said, well, I guess you _thought_ was more like it, that you couldn't trust someone who lived the life I did," he clarifies. "And I understand. What I was a part of, the things I was made to do, you just don't get over it. And I remember how horrible I was to you, the things I said and did. . . I wouldn't blame you for not wanting to see me anymore now that we're not depending on each other for survival."

My heart sinks.

Our minds were connected.

Neither of us knew how it worked.

I knew I hurt him there, being able to feel what he felt.

He heard what I was thinking.

"Draco, I couldn't remember things. At that point, I only knew that you were on the other side, that you bullied me, hurt me. But now, I know so much more," I say. "And yes, maybe things are different now, but that doesn't imply what happened means nothing. I think we should revisit this in some time."

"Time?" his face turns hard, masking what must be a strong emotion and I realize how he may have taken my words.

"Oh, no, not time apart. I don't think I can handle that right now," I explain. "I meant, revisit the _conversation_ after some time of seeing how this works."

He exhales a long breath of relief.

We're together. We're safe. And now, we can finally start over and maybe even try to make something of the mess we've been in.

He smiles and squeezes my hand.

Maybe, it'll be beautiful.

* * *

 **Author's note:**

 **Hello everyone! I'm really sorry this update has taken so long, it was a crazy busy weekend and I just didn't get around to editing until yesterday.**

 **It is finally revealed why Harry is blaming himself and partly why Ron is blaming him for what happened. What did you think? I know, it's a little cheesy, but hey, I was in the mood for cheesy :P**

 **What are your thoughts on the Draco - Hermione reunion?**

 **Thank-you so much to those who reviewed the last chapter! It was the one that I was the most concerned about, being the climax and what you've been waiting for. It means so much!**

 **I hope you have a great rest of your week!  
**

 **(PS: I'm going to add this in just because it's fun to say. I turn 21 today! Sounds weird 'cause I still feel 16. What happened? XD)**


	21. Return

Chapter 21– Return

"You live in muggle London?"

We walk from the apparation point to the large building which contains my flat.

Draco jumps at the sound of a car horn.

"Is that a problem?" I ask.

"No, no," he replies, running his fingers through his hair. "Just unexpected is all."

I look at him, a bit puzzled.

"You sent the package. How could you not know where I lived?"

"I sent the owl blind. He wasn't too happy with me." he says. "Why muggle London?"

"It gives some extra separation between work and home. I feel safer," I explain.

"Guess that makes some sense," he says, a bit uncertain.

Pushing through the front doors, I lead the rather quiet Draco Malfoy to the lift.

"Muggles have these too?"

He's remembering the one at the Ministry which works a bit differently than the one here.

I just nod my head and press the button for the fourth floor.

"So, are you telling me, that after all this time, you've never been inside a muggle building?" I'm a bit shocked, but I guess I shouldn't be considering what he was brought up to believe.

"I have, just not under the best circumstances," he explains quietly, glancing at his shoes. He's talking about the attacks on muggles that happened during the war and I can hear the shame laced in his voice. "Haven't really needed to since then"

The doors slide open and I turn to the left and move down the hall until I come to my door.

"Why don't you just use magic?" he whispers as I dig in my bag for my keys.

"Muggle building," I remind him, pulling them out and unlocking the door. "Doesn't it make you feel just a bit safer knowing that most people who live around here can't unlock your door whenever they want? No one can just floo over unannounced?"

"That's what wards are for Granger," he tells me.

"And you don't think someone could figure out a way around them? I've seen it happen." I shake my head and push open the door.

It looks a bit different from the way I left it.

Maybe it's just because of everything that's gone on, or from when Harry and Ron were looking for the clues, but it seems odd to be back.

It's home.

And it's been a long time.

A lot has changed.

I tilt my head slightly, examining the room.

It's simple. Wood floors, grey walls, mismatched furniture.

I couldn't afford much after I gave up everything so my parents could start over.

Yes, I was given quite a lot after the war, ministry claimed I was a war hero and all, but I couldn't bring myself to use it. Felt like blood money.

But now, it seems too . . . normal. The same as before, yet different and far too still.

Maybe I should redecorate.

"It's nice," Draco tells me, looking around.

"Yeah right," I reply sarcastically. "It's small, and everything is inexpensive second hand."

"Are you alright?" he turns back to face me. "Coming back here. I mean, they know where you live and they haven't all been caught yet."

"They're not going to come after me," I tell him.

"How can you know that for sure?"

"You know the same as I do that they will be in recovery mode. They've lost their leaders. Defense not offense," I say. "Now, why don't you go sit and I'll bring you something to drink."

Wait.

I cringe, thinking about what my refrigerator must look like at the moment.

I pause before following him to the sofa and sitting beside him.

"What happened to the drink?" he asks.

"About that, I realized I want to put off opening that door for a little bit longer. Been gone for quite a while now," I explain.

"Right." Pause. "Why am I here?"

"I told you –

"No, why am _I_ here. Not Potter or Weasley, me," Draco clarifies.

I sigh.

"They don't understand. They can't," I tell him.

"And I do," he adds.

I just nod.

He keeps questioning things and I don't know why.

I don't know what I expected. For us to suddenly be okay and madly in love?

He's never actually said it.

And we're in a different situation now.

But even the thought of being away from him right now scares me.

There's a knock.

I know who it probably is.

Harry told me as much.

Draco raises his brows from beside me as I stand. He wants to know if I'm worried.

I shake my head, turning to walk down the hall. I've got this.

"Ron," I say, opening the door.

"I brought something from mum. Said you might need something to eat," he tells me, holding out a bag.

I smile.

Mrs. Weasley is always so kind.

"I'm," he sighs, "I'm sorry."

That's big, coming from him.

"I didn't know what to believe and everything was completely bonkers, and I didn't want to lose you again. I was afraid," he explains.

"I know," I say. "I know, you were afraid, and you didn't know what to do or how to deal with it. But you're here, now, and that means so much."

I gently place the bag on the floor and throw my arms around him.

Ron. Sweet, caring, completely unaware, Ron.

But he'll always be one of my best friends.

"Can I come inside?" he asks tentatively.

I hesitate.

He'll find out eventually, but do I really want that day to be now?

"Hermione?"

I don't want to hurt him, and I know how he can hold a grudge. . .

"Fine," I say quietly, holding the door and stepping aside to let him pass.

Grabbing the bag of food, I quickly place it on the counter before grabbing his arm and leading him past Draco to the bedroom.

"Why's _he_ here?" Ron demands to know.

"I know you don't trust him. I know you still hold a grudge for what happened at Hogwarts, but that was long enough ago now for you to let that go," I tell him.

"Why should I?"

"Because things have changed. And I need him in my life."

He's quiet. Sad. A little angry.

"You still haven't answered my question," he says.

"I asked him to be here." I don't want to hurt him, I really don't, but I know the revelation will be like a knife wound in his chest.

"And not me."

"Ron-

"Harry said there was more to this than I know. Is that true? Was I just too thick headed to see it?" So, Harry told him. I'm not sure whether to be upset or relieved.

"Yes, well, for me I guess. We're still working through a lot." I pause. "And I know how you can get stuck in the way you're thinking. Only didn't tell you because I didn't want to start a fight between us."

I see tears in his eyes and his hands form fists at his sides. But he clears his throat and does his absolute best to keep the angry words at bay.

He remains silent, with only his tight breaths letting his struggle show.

"How could you do this to me?" Ron finally snaps.

He swallows and takes a deep breath. I am so surprised and proud that he is at least trying to control himself this time. I wonder what Harry said.

"What happened to us? I always thought. . ." He struggles to finish. "I always thought that you needed time, that you had so much going on. But one day, we would . . . I waited for you."

"I know." I take a breath. "It didn't work. It would have never worked, Ron. And I mean that in the best way. I realized after things began to settle that you're like a brother to me, and always will be. And we broke up because of that. Please understand. I do love you, but it's more of a family or close friend love and us together like that for too long, it would have ruined everything."

"Yeah." He sniffs.

And once again, I pull him into a tight embrace. He's stiff for a moment but gradually, his form softens and I feel his arms come around me.

We'll be alright.

Things may have changed.

But we'll be alright.

He steps back and takes a seat on the bed.

"I also wanted to tell you that Harry and I have made up," he says.

I am so relieved.

I couldn't stand that my friends were fighting and I hated that they were blaming each other for what happened.

"I shouldn't have blamed him for my own mistakes," he continues.

I sit on the bed beside him.

"What do you mean?" I ask softly.

He doesn't look at me.

Doesn't speak for a moment.

And it gets to the point when I wonder if he really will tell me.

"I gave up," he starts. "I gave up looking. It had been so long." He takes a deep breath. "Everyone else who had been taken by them, they were dead within the first week. And we weren't finding anything. We were stuck and the clues weren't making sense. And I gave up." He sniffs. "When you first went missing, I promised myself and you that I would never stop. But they made it look like . . . I mourned for you. Thought you were dead. But Harry kept looking. _He_ never stopped. He's the one who realized that we actually hadn't found all the clues, that there was one we must have missed. He's the one who found it. And I blamed him for everything because it was easier than blaming myself."

He thought I was dead.

Suddenly, everything makes sense.

Projection.

He felt so guilty for giving up that he pushed that guilt onto Harry.

And now that he and Harry have made up it's eating him alive.

"Ron, look at me," I tell him.

His eyes are red and watery as he fights to hold back his tears.

"I don't blame Harry, and I don't blame you either. Yes, it took a while to find me. I knew it might. I _knew_ it might be very difficult to piece everything together, if you even found everything in the first place. Am I going to say it doesn't hurt that you gave up? No. But I do understand. I understand why things happened the way they did. We have to move forward. This isn't where our lives end, it's where they change directions. We just have to find where this new path leads."

He doesn't say anything, simply sends me a small smile that tells me he's okay. We're okay.

We'll be okay.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello everyone! My posting schedule is a little off now, sorry about that. I wanted to get this up for you guys as soon as** **possible, so it might need another edit. Let me know if you caught anything. I also struggled with the ending of this chapter. Originally, I had left it with Hermione's little speech at the end there, but thought it was too abrupt. Let me know what you thought.**

 **Things are a little awkward between Hermione and Draco, but I hope that isn't too frustrating. For me personally, things wouldn't be all fluffy and good right after the trauma, especially when they didn't really know each other before hand. They need to spend some time together outside the trauma first. Again, I would love to hear what you think about it.**

 **Thank-you so much for all the reviews, you guys have been so amazing. I have one more chapter written at the moment but I still have to decide if that's the end.**

 **Thanks for reading, and I hope you have an awesome week!**


	22. Love

Chapter 22 - Love

Safety.

It's such a strange concept.

A feeling that can have so little to do with what you're actually facing.

It can change from moment to moment.

Something I've learned from this whole situation is that safety is a sense that does not depend on where you are or what you're facing but on hope and who you're with.

I used to think it relied on fear, life security. But It's something else entirely.

I lie in his arms in a dark bedroom.

At first, Draco insisted on sleeping in the sitting room on the sofa.

But nightmares.

The epitome of how unsafe you can feel in the physical safety of your own home, own bed, own mind.

He told me how he would wake from his own nightmare to the sounds of screaming in the next room.

My room.

And being together, well, at least it gives a sense of safety when we wake.

I couldn't imagine being in my flat, alone.

Harry and Ron never really understood while I was at the safe house. They probably knew the nightmares would come, but that was all they thought they were, nightmares. When you've experienced something like that, it's never just a nightmare, but the fear that I've woken up.

But Draco and I can face this together.

And to be honest, we don't sleep all that much. Sleep brings fear.

Sure, I had bouts of nightmares as a child, but I thought those days were over, that sleep would always be the haven of peaceful recovery it had become throughout school.

I am afraid of sleep. I am afraid of the moment when I am pulled back into the memory so deeply that I begin to confuse it with reality.

I think Draco is feeling that way as well, though, he hasn't said as much.

Right now, we lie awake, but together, fighting the fatigue that has crept into our very bones.

Now, awake and feeling the strength in his arms as he holds me close, I have a sense of that safety I want so badly to maintain.

"Did you mean what you said?" Draco asks, breaking the peaceful silence that had settled between us.

I look at him in the darkness.

"When I said what?" I whisper.

"The last words you said before waking up," he explains quietly.

And I know exactly what he's talking about.

Has he been thinking about that this whole time? Analyzing it? Doubting it?

 _I love you._

I did then, but do I now? Was I just vulnerable because of the situation?

 _I love you._

Such small words can mean so much.

Do I? Do I still?

I place my hand on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart beneath my palm.

I remember the panic, how my own heart broke, thinking of what was being done to him. I remember the fear that his heart might be stopped.

I know the warmth I feel deep within me when he simply says my name, I know the feeling of emptiness that comes over me when I imagine my life if he hadn't been saved.

"Yes," I find myself replying.

"You have to understand, I give those words a lot more value than others might," he tells me. "My father never said them, my mother only rarely, and I myself haven't used them. I was brought up to believe conflicting things. Father said love was weakness, my mother said it was strength but only if wielded by the right person. Together, they said to keep my heart safe."

And it makes sense.

He's been guarding his heart with lock and key for so long.

I lightly trace the line of his jaw with my fingertips, feeling the slight stubble that has come in there.

"I've fallen in love with you twice," I whisper, pulling myself closer as I say the words. "Don't think I need a third."

Passion.

Hunger.

Life.

Sadness.

Love.

It comes together the moment he pulls me even tighter against his chest and melts into the kiss.

And it doesn't matter that he hasn't said the words.

I feel it in the power.

I feel it in the way he holds me like he never wants to let go.

I feel it in the salty taste of his tears mixed with the smile his lips form against mine.

There is still so much we have to work through; our lives have changed, our souls damaged.

But love.

Love is the strongest magic of all.

Love conquers. It heals. It renews.

And that's just what we need.

This is what we need.

We're different now. Mere vapours remain of our old selves, our old lives, but we're not lost. Not anymore.

Because I know that there is a future for us.

Laying in each other's arms, holding on like we'll never let go.

This is where I belong.

This is where we belong.

* * *

 **Hello everyone! I am so sorry this has taken such a long time to be posted! This summer was absolutely exhausting, I joined a fanfic competition where I had to write a story every two weeks, and I was being a complete perfectionist about this. It's still not where I want it to be, but I do want to complete this fic before the summer is over.**

 **Thank you guys for sticking with me, for being patient, this story was really different and was a lot of fun to write. Thanks to all you wonderful angels who sent me reviews throughout the story, they made my day every time. I love you all!**

 **This is finally the end!  
**

 **We are now on Round 9 of 13 for the competition I am involved with, so check that out if you want to read more from me. There are a couple Dramione s in the ones I have posted so far, but a mix of other things too!**


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